Point of View
by dianaiana115
Summary: Medic's new invention was sabotaged by a few of his teammates, causing the device to malfunction and blowup right in front of their faces. None of them were hurt by the accident, but what they had to deal with was the side effects of the explosion… the side effects that would change their point of views towards each other. Body swap genre
1. Imaginary Snake

"I'm telling ya Snipes, them cactus juice can be used for drinking!"

It was a hot day outside the walls of Teufort and inside the territory of Decoy. Scout was seated on an old wooden bench next to an abandoned barn that seemed to be situated in the middle of a dry desert. There were weirdly shaped cacti everywhere, and the cracks on the dry ground seemed to get bigger and bigger as the temperature increased. The usually hyperactive boy breathed heavily with his mouth open, and tongue stuck out.

Scout swallowed a few drops of his saliva. "Aw, come on Snipes you gotta let me drink some cactus water! I'm sweating like a pig over here!" He removed his headphones, then his black cap, and used it as a fan.

The lone ranger stopped wiping the lens of his scope for a brief moment and raised a brow at the Bostonian. The shade provided by his van prevented him from soaking up the heat of the sun. The Sniper was already used to this weather. In fact, his body has been trained to get used to any weather the earth could possibly think of. That was one of the best qualities and one of the reasons why the administrator immediately hired this specific man for the job. "And wot makes yah think that I'm gonna allow you tah do that?"

"THE SUN'S SO FRICKIN' HOT MAN IT FEELS LIKE I'M ON THE DAMN SUN I NEED SOMETHING FOR MY FRICKIN' PARCHED THROAT!"

Sniper smirked, clearly amused, and continued wiping his gun's lens. "That's still no excuse to just go for cactus juice, yah little bugger. We never know wot kind of grog is inside of the prickly plant. It could probably poison yah or give yah some strange hallucinations thah would make yah go tipsy."

Scout fanned his cap harder. "I don't care, Snipes! I'd prob'lly die in this kind of heat! Hallucinatin' nothin' compared ta this kinda sufferin'! Why won't them damn robots come anyway? We've been waitin' for like, 2 hours already!" He lied down on the rotting bench, and covered his head with his cap.

"Do yah mean 30 minutes?" The hat donning man chuckled. "Looks loike the temp's tamping with your sense of time, kid."

Despite his pride, Scout agreed a bit to what the Sniper said. The heat's messing with his brain, but it would mean almost nothing to him if only they were given some mean alien robots to fight. He swallowed a bit of the saliva from his dry mouth but did not find it refreshing at all.

Decoy really did seem to be a bit too quiet today, the Sniper noticed. He placed his gun down for a moment and stood up, shaking off the dust particles that stuck to his vest. Sweat beads formed on the face and neck of the gunman, but this warmth was nothing to him. After he picked up his hat, he jogged towards the far end of Decoy, the wooden gate which was the usual entrance of the steel soldiers and alien tanks.

There was no sign of any army robots.

"Hmm… that's strange…," he muttered under his hot breath.

From afar, he heard the Scout shout, "ANYTHIN' INTERESTIN' GOING ON DER, SNIPES?!"

He placed his right hand above his eyes, covering himself from the brightness of the sun. His eyes squinted at the direction of the wooden gate. "Ah don't think those mutated tin cans are comin' tahday, Scout. The whole place seems to be some kind ghost town for the moment!"

Hands grasped the black cap angrily, and in a split second the Scout stood up, ready with a baseball and a bat. "This is ridiculous, Snipes! When are they gonna come?" He carefully eyed the nearest cactus, which was only a few meters from him. The boy glanced to and fro, hoping not to find any hint of the Sniper who was away. He didn't care anymore. Poisonous or not, he was going to get something to drink.

As quick as a jack rabbit, the thirsty Scout ran towards the cactus. Unknown to him, the Sniper's hawk-like eyes could easily find him like predator on prey. He was on the roof on one of the abandoned buildings in Decoy, next to a box of ammo and a med kit. He quickly ran down the creaky stairs.

"Oy! Get back here yah little ratbag!" cried the Sniper, who just got back from surveying the silent place. "That cactus is not what yah think it is, and yah don't know where the bloody heck you're goin'! Watch out for that damn – "

"Woah, AH! AH! AAAAAAH!"

"– hole! "

The boy's back collided with the dusty and rocky ground of a large hole located just before his cactus. He got a few scratches, but there was no major injury. "What the… this wasn't here before!"

Sniper hurried and ran towards the medium sized desert hole surrounded by rocks, which kept it from being seen easily. One needed to be in an elevated place to be able to spot the hole that wasn't there. Sniper looked down on the averagely deep hole, then straight at the messed up scout, who was lying on his back. "Yah okay there, mate?" He scanned the area below. Something about the peculiar hole made him feel like the boy wasn't the only being down there. "That's what yah get for not following orders! Why didn't yah take some water from your canteen anyway? Get up, yah sheila! We're leaving the place!"

That made the young soldier wake up from his shock. "Hey! My canteen was for ammo! It can't help me with this damn heat!" And after a few buffering seconds… "Really? Them robots ain't coming?"

The stressed looking man rubbed his temples. "Don't think so. I feel loike there's some weihd system that makes them sense the number of people in the area. There needs to be at least three of us to, uh well… let the clock start tickin'."

The young lad's dusty face beamed instantly, starting to feel quite energetic again. "YES! Man, this hell hole's getting on my nerves! Come on Snipes, help me up! We gotta get away from this oven fast! Too bad though, I finally got good upgrades on my soda poppah!"

"Yeah, yeah, stop talkin' and more movin' kid! Here, grab my hand!"

He reached for the semi-gloved hand of his senior, grabbed it, and pushed his weight away from gravity's grasp. But before he was totally out of the dusty hole, something made him jerk like a wild animal.

"OUCH! WHAT IN THE HELL?!... HOLY…!"

A rather large serpent crawled away from the newly wounded Scout. It had blue-black scales, and it swiftly made its way deeper into the desert hole.

"OH SHIT A FRICKIN' SNAKE! Aw man! Aw maaaaaaannn! Awmanawmanawmanawmanawman!"

The Sniper, being the wild and nature camper guy he is, did not worry much. He has already encountered this kind of snake at least 5 times in his life, and he knew that the Indigo snake, or the _Drymarchon corais_, despite its size, was a docile creature and a nonvenomous foe.

The Scout on the other hand was an entirely different situation. The boy began shaking all over, feeling venom go through his blood (there was none though, it was all psychological). When he was six years old, a tiny yet aggressive and venomous snake attacked him on his left leg, for he and his brother "accidentally" disturbed the reptile but he was not able to run fast enough. He was hospitalized for a week after the incident. This experience was one of the reasons he trained himself to run as fast as he could.

Calm as he ever was, the Sniper reached again for the Scout's hand. "Come on, yah bugger! Thah' thing's hahmless; don't get bloody intimidated by its soize!"

But it was too late, for the Scout passed out right on the spot.

"Awh frickin' freckles…", murmured the Sniper.

* * *

_Stay still_, Spy told himself.

He was currently situated inside the medical bay, where the Medic was repairing an old and forgotten machine used to stun patients by projecting rays that could access the patient's brain and shut the nervous system off temporarily. It was such a brilliant step for the history of medicine and surgery.

Of course, the Spy knew nothing about the machine. He had another mission, and it involved that wretched sly fox of the rival team.

The BLU Spy. While passing through the halls of the building this morning, the Spy caught a glimpse of a faded blue entity roaming around the place. He had no idea how that fool got past their defenses, but he sure won't last long here in the RED base.

Medic, having no knowledge of the Spy's presence, worked peacefully on his machine while humming some German songs to himself. He chuckled darkly, catching the Spy's attention. "I may be no Engineer, but zhis contraption eez fantastic! Zhis vhould definitely make my vhurk easier!"

_What a crazy man_, thought the Spy. But no, he could be the BLU spy, acting out a crazy charade to fool him. He had to keep a close watch on his teammates – one of them may actually act strangely.

"Just a little more…"

The Medic fiddled with the many wires that were attached behind the human-sized contraption. Colorful cables of different sizes and designs were scattered across the floor, each playing a small yet important role on the machine's function.

"Wunderbar! Now just a flick of zhis svitch…" His bloody finger reached for the glowing red button.

Rattling and buzzing sounds filled the medical bay in an instant, and electrical sparks wheezed through the wires. Both the Medic and the cloaked Spy did not expect the invention to respond within a split second, making them jolt suddenly.

_Merd__é!_

Spy's cloak slowly faded, but he halted just in time for it to recharge.

As the doctor studied the machine's reaction, the door to the bay opened with a loud bang. An annoyed Sniper carrying an unconscious Scout stormed inside. "Doc, we have a bloody problem."

But the Medic was in no mood for patients. "Can it vait? I'm a bit busy here Herr Sniper."

"I just need yah to bring him back tah consciousness. The poor wanker fainted at the sight of a hahmless snake." The Sniper placed the limp Bostonian on the operating bed.

The Spy chuckled at the thought of Scout's fear. _Snakes? Ha! He's scared of snakes?_

"So I just need to vhake him up? Did he get bitten or zhomething?" asked the Medic. He looked at the possible places of a snake bite. Sure enough, he found one near the Scout's left foot. "Vhat bit him?"

"An Indigo snake, but it was just a young'un. Them bloody snakes get bigger than some tree logs. They don't have any venom though, so Scout only suffered the pain of being bitten."

Medic nodded slightly, and went to his medical box. He took out a syringe filled with a faint blue liquid. "Vhud you mind if I test out zhis new drug?"

"New drug?" The Sniper threw him a skeptical look. "Have you tested it on lab rats or monkeys, doc? Doesn't look quite safe tah me."

"I am zhe doctor here, Herr Sniper. Trust me. Besides, this drug doesn't have any dangerous side evhects."

"But it does have soide effects."

The Medic smiled sheepishly at the syringe, then looked at Sniper. The Spy was able to read him right away. _He is embarrassed of something_, thought the Frenchman. The way the doctor was acting was totally normal, and he was starting to think that the BLU Spy was not disguised as the Medic.

He then turned most of his attention to the Sniper and the Scout.

"Vhell, zhere are side effects, but zhey… how do I say zhis… are just plain ridiculous."

Sniper cocked an eyebrow. "Ridiculous soide effects?"

"I tested zhis on vhone ohv my patients years ago. He vhas unconscious zhat time, but after I injected zhis drug, he immediately vhoke up."

"So… wot about the soide effect?"

The silent Spy shifted his attention back to the doctor, becoming interested on the current topic. The doctor rubbed the back of his neck, and looked shamefacedly at the Sniper. "He vhasn't able to open his eyes for halv an hour." The Medic said it as if he were announcing to a couple that their first born just died.

Silence filled the room for about 10 seconds.

"That's it?"

_Merd__é__! I thought it was something serious!_

"Vhat do you mean zhat's eet?! It's the greatest embarrassment for such a highly honored doctor like me to make drugs vhich are not perfect having… silly side evhects! _Das finde ich blöd_! Eef you give me a little more time I could probably improve and omit zhe side evhect, but it vhould –"

Sniper gave a friendly pat on Medic's back. "Calm down doc. No need for improvement, I need that little kiddiewink up and running an hour from now. We have an intel to get a hold of, and he's best at that."

"Okay, fine… fine. Let's see eef it vhurks correctly on him." With care and accuracy, the Medic injected the syringe on the Scout's right shoulder.

A few moments into the future, the doctor would realize that what he had done was the worst thing he'd done in his whole medical career. A series of fast yet unfortunate events followed afterwards.

The Scout woke up with a twitchy and frightened expression on his face. This startled all three men in the bay. Realizing that he had no control over his eyelids, he started screaming: "Hey who turned off the sun FRICKIN' SAUSAGES I'M BLIND I'M BLIND I'M BLIND!" The Sniper immediately told him to calm down, and explained that he was in the medical bay, being treated for the snake bite he acquired.

And this was the Sniper's mistake.

"A SNAKE? THAT FRICKIN' SNAKE THAT COUDA BEEN AN ELEPHANT'S TRUNK?! WHERE OH MAN WHERE THE HELL IS IT I CAN'T SEE!"

Scout rose from the bed and started to run uncontrollably at every direction, knocking down most of Medic's stuff.

"SHIT WHERE'S THE SNAKE?! GET ME AWAY FROM HIM!" "Calm down, dummkopf! Zhere are no snakes anyvhere here! Stop shooting, you might hit my vonderful inventions!" "Woah there mate! Look out at where you're going or you'll tear the whole bay down!" "WATCH WHERE I'M GOING? HOW THE FRICKIN' HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO WATCH WHERE I'M GOIN' WHEN I CAN'T SEE?!"

The Spy then concluded that none of the men in the bay were the BLU Spy, for he knew how his rival would act under certain situations. These people are idiots, nothing like the BLU Spy. Escaping this problem was his next mission. He cursed inwardly as the Scout came running towards him.

"AW MAN WHERE THE HELL AM I?!"

The Frenchman followed his reflexes and grabbed his butterfly knife from his pocket. He did not want to harm the Scout, but he needed it just for defense. The Scout bumped into him with such a great force, knocking the Spy towards the Medic's renewed invention.

"_Putain_!" cursed the Spy.

The butterfly knife accidentally cut some wires, and inserted into a metallic slit, which caused it to spark. Their collision with the machine caused it to emit a low drone which started to slowly become loud bangs from within.

"Ah, my vonderful machine! Vhat have you done?!"

"Oi, is that a Spoy?"

The medic shot an angry look at the frantic Scout and the now decloaked Spy but then instantly ran towards his machine. He tapped buttons multiple times and even tried to rearrange some wires, but every move he made seemed to make it worse. The Scout lay on top of the slightly unconscious Spy who was slowly recovering.

Sniper tried to help the Medic but he knew that he had no knowledge about things like that. The noises coming from the metallic invention got louder and louder, and sparks became more frequent. After several seconds, the racket stopped. So did the Medic.

Silence filled the air once more.

"Oh… Phew…," huffed the Medic. He looked at the faces of his teammates and smiled slightly. "I zhought it vhas going to -"

**BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!**

An ear-splitting explosion occurred, and machine parts flew everywhere. Black, foul-scented smoke filled the bay's atmosphere. Both the Medic and the Sniper fell backwards violently, and crashed on the cemented floors of the bay.

Everyone now lay knocked-out on the cold surface.


	2. Who am I?

Have you ever been unexpectedly hit by a train speeding along the rails going 125 miles per hour? Do you want to know how it feels like? Ask the Spy. He'll definitely tell you that you wouldn't need to go to Well and try to experience the pain. All you would need was a blind Scout, a shaky machine made by a crazy doctor, and some kind of imaginary snake.

"Ow…", murmured the Spy. He sat down awkwardly, scratched his head and tried to feel if any new bumps popped out and destroyed the beauty of his perfect skull. He expected to feel the surface of his balaclava, but instead, he felt hair.

_Hair?_ He silently asked himself. _Why in the world… does this mean that the balaclava…_

Both of his hands now tried to touch the top of his head and he confirmed that yes – it was hair. The Frenchman did not lose his cool, and while his teammates were lying unconscious on the floor, his eyes darted across the topsy-turvy room in search of the identity-hiding mask.

That's when he noticed that somehow, his vision was darkened by a pair of sunglasses. Before the Spy could question himself once more, he heard a moaning voice.

"Ouch… What just happened… Hey I could open my eyes again!"

Spy turned around to see the Medic in ragged and dusted clothes, also seated as if he were extremely exhausted.

But something was wrong about him. He wore an extremely shocked look on his face… and did he mention something about opening his eyes?

"A boy. A toy. Daschund. Cape Cod. What on earth… I sound like da Doc!"

Medic made more weird sounds and words with a strange Bostonian accent then looked at his hands. He then stopped playing with his voice.

_Something's not right around here…_ thought Spy. He had a pretty good guess of what happened to the Medic, but he wasn't counting on it.

The Medic's usually ice cold eyes now looked at him with expressive fear. "This is stupid, Snipes! I think I just turned intah da Medic!"

_Snipes?_

"What are you talking abo – "

He stopped right there. It was him talking, but the voice… It wasn't his.

Spy stood up weakly, and looked at his clothes. It was the Sniper's vest he was wearing. He touched the hair, removed the sunglasses, felt his face, looked at his arms and even smelled his armpits.

"_Merd__é! _I am in the body of the repulsive Bushman! _C'est des conneries!"_

If this had been an entirely serious and formal situation, Scout would have stifled his laughter. But since no one was stopping him, he laughed hard at the Sniper's voice talking and cussing in French with a slightly heavy French accent. It sounded weird though, hearing the Medic's voice laugh due to natural, non-evil causes and not because he was able to sew on 2 extra hearts in dead, mutated human bodies.

"Spy, issat you? Hahahaha! You're in that damn Snipah's body! How does it feel like to be a hippy? Cuss again will yah? You sound so WEIRD!" stated Scout-Medic with grunts and laughter in between. The Spy, who obviously was not enjoying the situation, shot him an angry look.

"'ave you not looked clearly into the situation? You are in the Medic's body! 'ow on earth are we going to return to normal?!"

Scout-Medic frowned and shrugged. "No idea. What happened anyway? I wasn't able tah see properly earlier, so I had no idea at what was going on in here."

The Frenchman's head hurt more now that he realized that even he, the ultimate person of espionage, trickery, secrecy and escape, couldn't handle the situation at hand.

"Well, at least I know 'ow to act like the Sniper," he said to the Scout. "I 'ave been trained to carry on different roles and disguises; this… weird thing going on now only makes me feel like I 'ave disguised into the Bushman, only… it doesn't involve my deceiving masks and switching teams…"

Scout surveyed his body once more. "Yeah, no more traitorin' for yah. But what about me?! I can't run as fast as I used to in the Doc's body!"

"Very well then, starting now, you would 'ave to be the one carrying 'is Medigun."

"WHAT? NO WAY! I'm from class offense, Sni… Spook! I can't just be demoted tah class support!"

The Spy stared at Scout with Sniper's eyes. It really felt different, having to hear Medic's voice sound like a child, and seeing him act like someone else. It was creeping him out, yet somehow… entertained him in a strange way. Maybe it was because the Medic wasn't one of the most expressive people in their team. He'd always put on a serious face whenever missions were going on, then smile wickedly once his übersaw cut bodies in half.

"Do not say demoted; the offense class would be nothing without our support."

Scout ranted again, making the Spy roll his eyes. He tried to get a calming cigarette from his pocket, but then realized that his pocket before wasn't his pocket now.

"… and boom! We win the intelligence! Yah see how… oy, where are yah headed to, Snipe – Spook?"

"I need a cigarette."

Spy picked up and patted Sniper's sooty hat, placed it on his head, and carefully walked across the rubble of machine pieces, and finally saw his unconscious body, along with Scout's lying above his. The Bostonian grimaced at the image he was seeing. "Holy cow. Get your stinkin' body away from mine! It makes me look like a homo!" The Australian that was French moved closer to the two tangled bodies, and tried to separate them without waking them up. "Ugh. If ever this happens in real life, I would be on top of you, _conass__é_.

That left Scout's… Medic's jaw hanging for a good amount of time. "You… you did not just say that! That would never happen!"

The currently Australian man no longer paid attention to the Scout. He slowly picked up Scout's body with surprising strength (Spy didn't know that the Bushman had some muscle despite his lanky figure) and positioned him seated aside. Scout helped the Spy, and then diverted all of his attention to his unconscious body.

Now that they were apart from each other, Spy could easily reach for his cigarette box, located at his back pocket.

"Easy now…" he whispered with an Australian accent.

He reached down carefully, but as his hand moved inside the pocket, a certain Bushman felt that someone was gently caressing his ass.

"WHAT THE BLOODY – "

Sniper sat up in half a second, wearing a disgusted look on his face… or rather, in Spy's face. He and the Spy (in Sniper's body, of course) stared eye to eye for what seemed to be an eternity. Spy looked at him but was awkwardly positioned because his left arm was stuck under his own butt.

He decided to play along with the situation for a while.

"Well mate, if yah stand up I could get my hands off - "

"SPOI! THAT SNIPAH'S A SPOI!"

With fast reflexes, Sniper stood up and tried to grab hold of his melee weapon. Once he felt it, he lunged forward at the fake Sniper and stabbed him in the heart.

Spy kept a straight face. They were on the same team, so the attack was useless. "Whah are yah talkin' about yah bloody Spook? You're the Spoi!"

In the far corner, Scout was gently slapping his own face, with the want to wake his own body up. Both the Sniper and the Spy caught his attention, and their little dispute seemed to entertain him. "Yah tell him Spook!" he shouted from afar.

Sniper did not expect the reaction of the 'doctor', but nevertheless, he smirked at the obviously fake Spy. "You can't fool me - "

"Take a look at your bloody weapon and yourself, wanker, and tell me straight in the face that you're not a Spoi!"

That caught the real Australian off-guard. Indeed, he did find something wrong about his voice despite the fact that it seemed awkwardly familiar. He looked at the melee in his hand that was positioned in the Spy's heart.

It was a bloody butterfly knife.

"What the…", he mumbled. He looked at his clothes, and Spy sneered as he saw the eyes of his own face grow wide as Ping-Pong balls. The fake Frenchman felt his face, the balaclava, and inspected his arms, legs, shoes, basically his whole body. He turned to the Spy and silently mouthed the words with a disbelieving look on his face. "I… I'm a Spoi… This can't be bloody happening!" said Sniper with his heavy Australian accent.

"Oh, but it is _mon ami_, and even I cannot think of a solution to this little… problem."

Once the Sniper heard that annoying French accent controlling his voice, he immediately kicked his companion, deep in his land of his honor and pride.

"OW!" The genuine Spook held his… or Sniper's, crotch tight and fell weakly, flat on his red face. "Merdé, do you realize what you've just done?! What was that for you filthy Bushman?!" he cried in a low yet painful Aussie voice.

"For bloody trickin' me, yah arse monkey!" He stubbornly took his cap from Spy's head and plopped it heavily on his own. "Wanker", he said in an inaudible yet angry speech. "Why don't yah tell me wot's going on ovah here, and what wrong with the Medic?"

"That's the Scout tah you, Spook!" cried Scout. After many gentle and harsh slaps were given to his face, the body still had no reaction.

Sniper did not believe what he was hearing. "The Scout? The little bugger's in the Doc's body?"

"Yes… finally, you are catching up."

"How did this happen?"

"No idea Bushman, but I'm sure it involves that bizarre machine of the Doctéur. We'll 'ave to ask him about that later." He felt a bit exasperated from looking at that annoying hat on the Sniper's head. It looked so ridiculous and it definitely ruined his flawless sense of fashion… who in his right mind would don a hippy hat and pair it with fine, expensive clothes and shoes? Not to mention its total incompatibility with the balaclava!

Sniper rubbed his temples and tried to think. "So, if I'm in the Spook's body and he's in mine, and Scout's mind is in Medic's body, then that means…"

"THE DOC'S IN MINE!" cried the Scout. He was becoming jittery. "I don't want a faggot doctor in MY body! How the hell ah we gonna reverse this?!"

"I 'ave no idea, _petit_. Why don't you think about it? You're the doctéur!" He motioned towards the Sniper and snatched his cigarette box. With the use of a lighter, he flicked on of his cigarettes and placed in his mouth.

"Oi! Stop smokin' yah Frenchie!" He took the cigarette from his mouth and threw it to who knows where.

"_Mon dieu!_ 'ow dare you waste such a fine cigar! What makes you think that you could just - "

"Those are MY LUNGS you're murdering, mate! You are not allowed to smoke while you're in my body!"

Spy hissed at the Aussie. "You cannot control me!" He quickly took another one from the box. But before he was able to light it, Sniper slapped it out of his hand. He then took another, with the same effect. Sniper reached for the box, but then the smoker raised it and kept it out of his teammate's reach.

"Give me the bloody box!"

"Non! It is not yours!"

"But MY LUNGS ARE YAH BLOODY SHAPESHIFTER!"

"They are currently mine Bushman! Shoo! I need the smoke!" cried the Spy. He punched his enemy in the gut.

"OW, Why you - "

Sniper returned the favor through a heavy pounce, and in second or less, the two were squabbling on the floor.

While they were busy fighting over Sniper's precious lungs, Scout let Spy's words sink into his brain.

_Currently, I am the doctah_… he thought. _That means I have access to all his… or my needles and cool stuff! Sweet!_

Without the knowledge of the noisy pair, the boy… currently a man, sneaked his way to Medic's cabinet. He gently opened it and found different bottles, syringes and weapons inside the storage. "Haha! This is going to be epic!" His momma always wished that his youngest baby Scout would grow up to be a fine doctor.

"Well momma, yah got you're wish", he mumbled to himself. He took the syringe which had green liquid in its barrel, then skipped over to his body.

"AHEM!" he announced, trying to get the attention of the fighting duo.

They diverted their attention and rested for a while. Spy's hands were choking Sniper while the Aussie, currently in Spy's body, was pulling his hair.

Confident that they were focused on him, he started to imitate the Medic's German accent. "Vell, mein teammates, I am proud to announce zeh release of my new drug! Zhis vould be tested on my companion here, Herr Scout!"

Before the Sniper and Spy could stop him, he injected the syringe awkwardly into his own body's right arm.

"Are yah crazy mate?! Do you have any idea as to how that weird liquid wohks?! That could've been poison!"

That caught Scout off-guard. "But… He's a doctah! Everything he has here's prob'lly for curin' and stuff! He won't keep them goo in dah cabinet if it were dangerous!"

Spy face palmed. "Scout. It is the _Medic _we are talking about. Not any other normal, smiley, cancer-curing Medic, _our crazy, evil, I-want-to-mutate-you Medic_!"

Fear filled his eyes. "Gosh, does dat mean I killed hi – myself? Aw crap dis is ridiculous!"

"Crap indeed", said Spy as he rolled his eyes. The Aussie stepped over to Scout's body and felt his heartbeat. "Nope, his not dead… not yet. We could move him up on the medical bed ovah there and make sure he doesn't mutate or something."

Both Scout and Sniper picked the limp body and struggled for a moment. "Oi, get your ass here and help us for a moment!"

Spy smirked, and picked up the cigarette box on the floor. "And why would I do that, mon ami?" He proceeded to light another cigarette.

"Yah wouldn't", mouthed Sniper, still not inching close to the medical bed. His eyes glared at the grinning face of the currently Australian Frenchman. Scout was already having trouble carrying his side of the body. "Yah know what Snipes? I think we could just move the body way ovah there and then yah could have them little fights with the spook. If we do dis fast enough we could still save your lungs from - "

"MEDIC!"

Reflexes ans sudden surprise made Scout let go of his own body. Sniper did the same.

It's a good thing though, 'cause that impact woke up the sleeping beauty.

"OW! _Verdammt_!" cussed the Medi-Scout, in German.

"What are you boys all doing in the Medical bay? The mission's about to start in a few minutes! Medic, we need you right now up in the resupply!... What happened to Scout?"

Engineer tilted his head curiously, and decided to study the scene he was seeing.

Scout was rubbing the back of his head, cursing in… German? Both the Medic and the Spy wearing Sniper's hat were uncomfortably standing, staring at him as if he had grown a new pair of eyes, and the Sniper was… wait a minute, is he smoking?!

"Hey, what's going on here…"

"Nothing wrong mate, the Scout just slipped and fell into a hole in Decoy. Brought him here for fix-up, but right now the little bugger's good tah go." He quickly disposed of the cigarette and posed like Sniper would.

Spy said it in flawless Australian accent. Indeed, being a Spy has its benefits, even in the most unusual circumstances.

The Texan instantly believed in his mate. He then shifted his eyes to the real Sniper and gave him a genuinely spooked look. "Is that sniper's hat you're wearing?"

Sniper, unsure of how to answer, tried his best to speak French.

"_Escargot crouton putain meerd." _He recited it with such seriousness and confidence in his tone, and a hint of Aussie accent.

Spy face palmed for a second time. "Alright Truckie we'll get ready in a jiffy." He made Engineer turn around and pushed him away from the bay.

"Wait, I still need the Medic!"

Scout threw a worried look at the former Sniper, but he motioned his head as if he were telling him to follow the Engineer. He whispered "What am I gonna do, Snipes?"

"Just act like the Medic for a while. We'll get this sorted out later."

The former speedster slowly walked to the Engineer, and this made the real Medic very confused. Before he could protest, a hand covered his mouth.

"Mmph!"

Sniper waited till both Scout and Medic were out of sight, then he let go of his teammate.

"Scheiße! Vat vas zat all about?!... Vat happened to my voice?... I sound like zhe Scout!"

Spy reached a hand to the confused boy, and helped him stand up. "The accident with your stupid _bidule _made us switch minds… I am the Spy, do not be confused. And that thing over there is the real Bsuhman who can't speak French."

"Whot? I _can_ speak French yah ninny!"

"Then explain what you just said to the laborer earlier!"

"Tsk, I told him yes, I was wearing my hat."

Spy looked even more annoyed. "Then what was the_ snail_ all about?!"

The former marksman shot him a bewildered look. "… wot snail?"

Spy face palmed for the third time today.

"Vait a minute let me get things straight… I am currently zhe Scout, zhe Scout is in my body, and you have traded minds?"

"Yes, that's pretty much it mate", said the Sniper. He's still wondering about the snail.

Instead of the expected reaction of shock, the Medic smiled evilly with Scout's face. "Zhis is anozher medical breakthrough! Once again, I have made zhe impossible, possible!"

Before he could celebrate the Frenchman grabbed him in the collar area. "There is no breakthrough! You have to turn us back before the mission! 'ow are we going to proceed if we are stuck in bodies that we can't control easily?"

Medic wanted to fight back the 'Sniper' that was jerking him, but realized that he couldn't move his right arm. It was swinging around as if it were made of jelly. "Vat happened to zhis am?"

"Ask the Scout mate. He did that to yah."

Spy did not stray from the topic. "Can. You. Return. Us. To. Normal. You. _Salaud_?"

All the healer did was shrug heavily, and gave him a look of assurance. "I could, but it vould take… a while."

"Good. I am getting tired of this stinky body."

"Diss my body again and I swear I would strangle yah!"

Medic stood up, still getting used to his jelly arm. "And by 'while' I mean a month. It took me a month to build that contraption. It vould take me anozher month to build it again."

Both jaws dropped.

"A MONTH IN THIS BODY?!" "A MONTH IN THIS BLOODY SUIT?!"

"Vell, yes… I zhink you could keep up vis zhat."

The two men stared at him for at least 10 seconds, thinking about how they could cope up with this new information. The doctor, now in serious mode, has not thought about how he would deal with this as well. Come on, I mean… a month in the Scout's body? Could he make it?

"Wait, I have an idea…"

The Frenchie and Aussie came back to reality. "Wot idea mate?"

"For a month ve vould have to act like zhe ozher. I vould mimic Scout, as vell as how he fights and how he uses his veapons. To shorten zhe time period of the remaking of zhe contraption, I vould ask some help from zhe Engineer."

"Looks loike agood idea to me…"

Spy turned to look at Sniper. "This would mean that you would 'ave to be the one that backstabs and I would 'ave to fumble around with your scope."

He took back his words immediately and waved both his arms. "Nope, not a good idea doc!"

"You have any better plans?"

The Spook told him the truth. "No… looks like we have no choice. We would have to do his suggestion."

Obviously not amused, the sharp shooter snarled. "Do we have to put on a little charade? Should we tell the other guys?"

"Best not, mein freund. It's better that zhey stay clueless about zhis. I will approach zhe Engineer about zhis problem, maybe together we can fix it quickly."

The three of them stood there for a few seconds, thinking of how they would do this.

THE MISSION IS ABOUT TO BEGIN

The announcer's voice hit them like bricks.

"Wot? Roight now? But I don't know how to be a spook!"

"And I only know how to provide zhe back-up health."

Spy face palmed again. _Oh boy_, he thought. _This will be a very LONG day._


	3. Weapons Exchange

So, I'm back! Thanks to all who supported me!

Please review, I want o hear what you guys think of this story. Oh well, let's start...

* * *

"I TOLD YOU BEFORE AND I AM GOING TO SAY IT AGAIN. THAT IS A _DRESS_!"

"NO IT IS NOT YAH BLOODY SCOUNDREL! SAY THAT ONE MORE TIME AND I'M GONNAE SHOVE ME LAUNCHER UP YOUR ARSE!"

Soldier crossed his arms stubbornly. "Fine, then it is a _TABLE CLOTH_ YOU CUT OFF FROM YOUR MOM'S TABLE CLOTH COLLECTION!"

"_Haud yer wheesht!_ My mommae has no table cloth collection… BUT I'LL TURN YAE INTO A WEE PIECE OF CLOTH IF YAE DON'T SHUT YER TRAP!

It felt as if the mission has started already a while ago, for the childish barks of two fully grown men could be heard even from the far-end of the BLU base. The Soldier and Demo were arguing for about an hour now, and this made the Engineer's eardrums want commit suicide. "Hey boys, don't you think you could lower down the volume a little bit - "

"PURE BLOOD AMERICANS WOULD NEVER WEAR GIRLY-GIRL SKIRTS!"

"I'M SCOTTISH YAH BLOKE, AND IT'S A MASCULINE _KILT_, NOT A SKIRT!"

Exasperated, the Texan rolled his eyes and took a break from building a sentry. He had to leave the place fast, or else he might get involved in their fight once these two immature men would strangle each other. He rushed back to the resupply for more metal and even more silence… that sweet, sweet, silence. There, he saw the Pyro covering both his ears. "You okay there, Mumbles?"

"Mmph."

Pyro looked at him and judging by the aura that he… or it was emitting, Engie could tell that it is not in a great mood. "I know that feeling Pyro. Situations like this remind me of my hometown around 5 years ago, where I had to take care of my sister's daughters. They won't stop blabbing about who has the prettiest doll or whether green tastes like coffee or like spaghetti, and it always had to be me who carried the duty of resolving their problem."

"Mmph, erfmph rhphmm!"

"I know, I know. But I bet that once the mission would start, they'll forget about that Scottish skirt they're arguing about."

The resupply room opened to reveal a red faced Cyclops. "A kilt, yah bastard! It's a kilt, not a skirt!" After his heart-warming speech, Demoman calmly exited the room and continued his heated argument with Solly.

That left the two wide eyed. "Talk about a keen sense o' hearing! Anyway Mumbles, I'm going to go fetch the doc. Maybe he could give them both some serum that would make them calm down or what. You handle them while I'm gone!"

"MMMMMPH! MERPH EHRPHH MMMMPH - " he waved his arms crazily, trying to protest against Engie's suggestion.

The laborer gave him a wide grin and a supportive thumbs-up. He did not acknowledge Pyro's gesture, though. "Thanks Py, you're the best!"

He left the fuming Pyro in the supply room, and strutted towards the medical bay.

* * *

There was this weird feeling in the left portion of Engineer's lower torso that startled him when the Medic approached him a little while later.

"Damn… I wonder…", he said in a barely audible voice, and he gently tapped that body part. Based on his past experiences, this only happens when his natural Texan instincts sense something out of place.

His gut never lied to him before. Either there's a BLU Spy lurking around, or something serious happened to one of his teammates.

When the two were far enough from the bay, he gave the unusually silent Medic a questioning look. "Hey doc… What _really_ happened back there? Did ya'll get stampeded on by a herd of buffalos, or was it a tractor convention that found its way into our base?" Engineer chuckled at the sight of the four mercenaries being caught under a surprise attack of killer tractors. "Seriously, it looked like hell down there! Care to explain to me doc?"

Scout was unsure of how to answer and he never really did get some pointers on how to act like the healer of the group. _"Damn… what would da Medic to if he were in my place?"_ He's already thought of going to some book store and buying them tutorials entitled "How to act like a Frickin' German Nazi Doctor who keeps Poisonous Injections in his Frickin' Medicine Cabinet" or "Frickin' Medicine for Frickin' Dummies who used to bring Baseball Frickin' Bats in a Frickin' War" or maybe "The Frickin' Science of Body-frickin'-Switching with a Frickin' Human-Mutating Knucklehead Surgeon Freak". Now he also needs to buy a frickin' German dictionary if he really wanted to keep playing doctor. Seems like he really needed to head for town later on and buy some books, along with gloves, syringes and other frickin' medical equipment for props.

This was one _freaky_ situation Scout had gotten himself into… If that frickin' snake never showed up, then this perhaps would never had happened –

"Hey doc, are you still with me?"

The former flash of the group detached with imagination land and was sucked back to reality. After a few seconds, he was able to notice a gloved hand waving in front of his face. He instantly pulled back slightly and gave the Engineer a "how long was dat hand swayin' ovah deh? " look.

"Wow… that reaction took longer than expected", said the laborer. His mechanical arm rubbed his chin, and you could easily tell that a thousand things were starting to race around his mind. "So, are you going to tell me what happened or should I leave it up to my imagination of killer tractors?"

_Killer tractors? Whaaaaaat?_

"Ja, I think that sounds like a good idea for a new blue print hardha… Herr Engineer."

"_What in doggone hell is wrong with the Medic?"_ Scout's companion easily concluded that the Medic wasn't paying attention earlier. He decided to play along. "You think so?"

"Of course, it would be really awesome and quite intimidatin' to them BLU's if yah ask me…"

The 'Medic' suddenly trailed off, realizing his grave mistake. '_Shit! I ain't Bostnian, I'mma German Nazi doctor and I need tah act like one!'_

"…I mean, eef you really are planning to build vone Herr Engineer, zhen I vould gladly assist you…" Scout slapped himself mentally. _'Assist him? ASSIST HIM?! Since when do Medics evah assist in makin' tractors?!'_

"Aw shucks doc, thanks for planning to… but I'm not sure about the idea anyway." That one little slip of the Medic stayed unstable in the toymaker's mind. He's sure that he heard a little bit of Scout in his tone, yet he cannot seem to think of any reason that would make their resident doctor sound like the hyperactive kid.

Both men proceeded quietly to the base; each speaking mentally to themselves. Once at the wooden stairs that lead up the main resupply room, Engineer discarded his thoughts quickly and remembered the manly fight over a skirt.

"IT'S A *hic* KILT!"

"IT'S A TABLE CLOTH!"

"A KILT YAE *hic* DUMB BLOKE, A BLOODY *hic* KILT!"

"IT'S A CHESS BOARD FOR A GAME OF AMERICAN CHESS!"

"WHY CAN'T YAE *hic* REGISTER INTAH YER MIND THAT IT. IS. A. _KILT!" _With that, he intentionally dropped an empty bottle of beer on the floor. It shattered at contact.

"PICNIC MATS DON'T WILT, CYCLOPS!"

"MMMMPH ERMPH PHMMMM ERGH!"

Poor, poor Pyro was currently having the time of his life in the best place in the entire world: between Demoman and Sol. His right hand was pushed hard against the Soldier's chest and the other hand on Demo's. His optical mask was sprinkled with manly saliva that exploded from their mouths whenever the two men showered opinions.

Engineer can't help but feel sorry for the fire wielder. He has completely forgotten that it was he himself who left him with the two in the first place.

"Now what is dis all about?!" asked the Scout. He crossed his arms and stood with perfect posture, just like the Medic. He was going to make the best out of this situation, starting with English to German accent lessons in his mind. _"Change 'th' to 'zh' and add a stress, then all 'oo' sounds would sound like the letter 'v', some 'v' sounds could sound like 'ph', and add a pinch of evilness and insanity into your tone."_

The men stopped their gibber for a while, and Pyro gave out a huge sigh of relief.

"That maggot over there can't separate manliness from a table cloth!"

"Nay! Of course it is manly, me ancestors wore it during great battles long before you were born yae arsehole!"

The 'Medic' shot them an uncertain gaze. "Are you talking about the dress he wears… vears?"

Soldier jumped and threw both hands into the air. "EVEN THE NAZI IS MANLIER THAN YOU, SCOTTY!"

Frustration was welling up in the bomb thrower. "Why don't yah believe that it is a kilt?! It is a knee-length pleated skirt usually of tartan worn by men in Scotland and by Scottish regiments in the British ahmies!"

"Well… vell, th – zhe vay you vear it makes it look like a skirt… an ugly one too, 'cuz yah noo, you could actually play American chess on it…"

Solly nearly hugged the 'Medic' for saying that, and Pyro distanced himself for it felt a red aura being released by the Cyclops. He immediately hid behind Engineer and used him as a tubby shield.

"_Oh boy, this is going to get ugly"_, thought the Texan. He now half wished he hadn't brought the Medic along. The mission hasn't even started but he could sense that one of his teammates would have to go through a pre-mission respawn.

It seemed like their world stopped for half a second, only to spin again due to the voice of a certain Scout who was not a Scout.

"Hey sup people! What's going on ovah here?"

The perfectly normal Scout strutted over to the men, obviously confused. "Did something happen?"

The real Scout's jaw dropped to the floor in disbelief. _"How in da hell could he portray me awesomely?!" _

Engie didn't want to add a new person to the fight. He awkwardly swaggered over to Scout, with Pyro holding on to him, and tapped the kid's shoulder. "Better be ignorant about this, boy. It's gonna get ugly with more people involved in the problem."

"Okay, no probs, I don't wanna get myself dirty in dem fights anyway."

Medic mimicked Scout in the way he spoke, but the attitude really isn't as realistic as it could be. If it were the real Scout talking, he would've insisted the Engineer to tell him about it, and get involved in the fight later on.

And this absolutely made Engie's gut react again.

"Anyhow, I wanna show da Medic something I made! Doc, come ovah here, it's in dah resupply! Come on come on come on comeoncomeoncomeon!" He grabbed his own gloved hand (it felt weird doing so) and pulled his former body towards the resupply.

"Ja, ja! I vill follow you, domkoopf!"

The genuine German nearly changed his expression, but retained that ridiculous Scout-grin on his face. He tried to communicate to him through brain waves. _"It's dummkopf, you dummkopf! Dummkopf!"_

He grabbed hold of the Scout's other hand and rushed him into the resupply room, leaving the ever noisy pair to the irritated Engineer and a cuddling Pyro.

* * *

While all else was ugly up above… everything was just as ugly down below. Both the Sniper and the Spy were in the tunnels, on that cemented floor where you could recharge life and ammo.

"This is outrageous, Spook. Sure, I've killed a handful using different knoives, but this… it's too tiny mate!"

Sniper held up the butterfly knife clumsily, looking at it as if it were an alien head. He attempted to open and close it by swinging it around, only to cut his own hand. "Ow!"

The Frenchman rolled his eyes and grabbed the knife from him. He swung it with ease, closed the weapon, and gave it to the hat-donning 'Spy'. "Get used to it _mon ami_. Believe me, once you 'ave backstabbed a person, 'e dies instantly. That knife is as good, even better, than most melee weapons you 'ave used."

"Heh, I doubt that."

Sniper fiddled around with the knife again as Spy stared at him. It was embarrassing to see himself unused to that one weapon that defines his best move: the backstab. "Non, no it's not like that Bushman."

"I know exactly how to handle this mate."

"Precisely, just the way you know how to speak French."

Sniper groaned. "I told yah Spook, I DO know how to speak French. You didn't even let me try to show you all my skills - "

"Yes, because I'm certain you 'ave none."

The real Sniper hissed at his own smirking face. This was all stupid. He was having a hard time trying to quarrel with the Spy, now that he now wears his appearance. It's never comfortable to just look at your own face and call yourself "a stupid little prick" or "a bloody wanker".

He remained silent and continued to play around with the weapon. "Hah, now I know why you only get a few kills mate. This toy knife ain't gonna win me dead bodies!"

"Say that one more time or I'll smoke to my 'eart's content. Do you know 'ow to use the watch?"

Spy saw his own face change its expression. "What wotch? The one yah use to disguise?"

"No, I use my cigarette box for that…", Spy threw him an annoyed look. "I've never let anyone use it other than myself. "

"Right now I'm you, so you still hold that record, Spook. How do I use the wotch and the box anyway?"

Spy in Sniper's body moved closer to Sniper in his body, grabbed his left hand, and pointed at the watch. "Do you see this button? You press it for instant invisibility. This watch is called the Cloak-and-Dagger, so if you do not move too much the meter for cloaking would recharge and you could stay invisible for a good amount of time, considering that there are no nearby enemy Pyros. Ammo and weapons left behind also 'elp the recharge."

Sniper tried to distance himself from his own body; it was invading personal space. "This watch makes me hoide? I would look loike a bloody coward."

"Says the person who needs to run away 50 miles before 'e could shoot. Anyway, cut the Australian accent when you use my voice… it's maddening."

"I'll do that when you stop using your Frenchie tone, wanker."

Silence followed, with the constant beeping of Spy's watch. The Sniper was testing the gadget, making sure it worked.

"No yah see me…", PSSSSHHHH "now yah don't."

PSSSSSHHH PSSSSSSHHH PSSSSSSSSHHH PSSSSSSSHHH…

"Cut it out Bushman! That watch works fine and you'll ruin it if you keep cloaking and uncloaking - "

PSSSSSSHHHH PSSSSSSSHHHHH PSSSSSSHHH PSSSSSSHHH…

Spy looked at him, clearly irritated. "I said, will you cut that OUT!"

"Relax mate, I was just giving it a test."

Spy shot him another irritated look, then pulled his hair with both hands. "ARGH! You would make a ridiculous Spy if you keep doing that! Merdé, I bet that you wouldn't last a full minute in the mission as my class!"

"Well yeah? I bet yah couldn't do thirty seconds as the Snipah, Spook! It needs more skill to survive just as long as that!"

The Spy tried to adjust his necktie (which was not there, obviously), and raised his head with pride. "Ahem, and what makes you say that? All you do is look into a scope that magnifies your view and shoot anyone stupid enough to stop moving for two seconds!"

"We'll see about that, wanker! You don't even know how to use Debbie!"

The Frenchman nearly choked on his saliva. "Debbie?" He put on a ridiculous grin. "You named your gun Debbie?"

"That's no ordinary gun, mate! She's a real beaut! Yah better handle her correctly Spook, not a single scratch must be seen on her after use."

"That's not what I was emphasizing, idiot! You're like a one-year-old girl, naming her toys Brittney, or Fluffy… do your pee jars 'ave individual names, or do you call them by just one name but add numbers to identify which you 'ave thrown to the enemy?"

"Shut up or I'll use Bessie against yah."

Spy laughed with Sniper's own voice. "Now 'oo is this Bessie?"

Sniper sneered. "You're bloody butterfly knoife."

The Frenchman's jolly mood didn't last long. "Bessie? That is a 'ighly unacceptable name for such a fine knife!"

"Well, its name starts with the letter B, as in Butterfly knife, so why not Bessie?"

"That is the name of an old, oily truck… or a cow!"

The two were so focused on their nonsense ramble that they were not able to pay attention to the time. There was only one minute remaining before the countdown, and the Sniper has not taught Spy how to use the gun yet.

Each of them were not well equipped with the others skill, and this could cost them a high price: a price as high as a mission.

* * *

The other pair on the other hand was doing quite well. Medic learned quickly from Scout, and he almost mastered most of his weapons. Well, that's what you can expect from a highly dignified doctor.

But Scout carrying out the Medic's job was different.

"So I just havta pull this, and it'll shoot dem lazer rays dat can do healing surgery from 5 meters away?"

Medic was getting frustrated. It was the 3rd time the kid has asked the question. "Ja, ja! Stop getting too distracted and listen to me, schwachkopf! Ve only have a little time before the countdown!"

"Relax doc! You're making me look like a jittery kangaroo! Wait, do I pull the lever forward, or backwards?"

"I told you, you pull it BACVARDS! There is no such zhing as pulling zhe lever forward, it vould look stupid!"

Scout took a good look at the Medigun by turning it around, looking at both sides and under. "So basically, this heals people."

"Ja."

"If I pull the lever."

"If you pull the OF COURSE YOU HAVE TO PULL ZHA LEVER! How earth can it vhurk if you don't svitch it on?!"

The Bostonian looked skeptical, like he never did believe in anything the Medic said. "So I just point it at a person and he gets magically healed?"

"If you pull the frickin' lever", said Medic using Scout's tone. He picked up another weapon from one of the lockers. "Zhis is zhe Syringe gun. It has zhe same function as a gun vould have, except it shoots - "

"Medicine? Ooooooh, dat's intimidatin'!"

"THE MISSION BEGINS IN ONE MINUTE"

The pair jumped in shock simultaneously. At first it seemed like they were just playing, making the best of the situation as they could. But it suddenly hit them hard and they remembered that one important thing.

This is happening. They have switched their minds, classes and appearance, and now they would have to switch roles. This is _SO_ happening, and there was nothing they could do about it but be slaves of the other person's body.

The people outside the base entered the resupply in a hurry.

"I still think it's a girly table cloth!"

"SHUT YER TRAP!"

Engineer came in looking like he'd been into labor and Pyro was still attached to his back. "Damn, this is definitely NOT a good start. You can let go of me now Mumbles." Pyro let him go without hesitating and enthusiastically grabbed hold of his Degreaser. "Usually I'd be having my sentries all ready but since I had to put up with the two whack-a-doodles…"

"Mmph ggrphh mm!"

The Texan chuckled, thinking about Pyro's opinion. "I know Pyro, I know."

"LET US KILL LEETLE MEN, DA?" Heavy picked up Sasha with ease, and smiled like he'd been given a good treat. "CHARGE ME DOKTOR!"

Medic turned to look at Scout, whom he saw sweating a bit too heavily. The boy looked at his Medigun, then at the Medic.

"_Just pull the svitch, dummkopf!"_

It's as if Scout heard his thoughts. He pulled the switch and shot healing rays at the Heavy. The boy started to lose his agitation and marveled at the contraption he was holding. After the heavy, he shot the rays at everyone else who was inside the room.

He looked at Medic, and gave him a smile that meant _"I think I'm getting' da hang of this!"_

The doctor understood, and he nodded at him. He grabbed the bat and swung it like Scout would. "We could do dis, doc! No need tah worry!"

He got the message relayed to him and he became a bit hopeful. Scout couldn't help but feel jealous of how the old man mimicked him perfectly, and this made him become a bit competitive. There was no way he would lose to a German Nazi. "Yes Herr Scout, I am certain zhat ve vould do vell."

Medic smiled inwardly. _"Zhat's more like it."_

* * *

"I do not want my knife to sound like a cow, Bushman! 'ow about Blanche or Brigitte? The name is perfect with the way that knife can kill with ease."

"Nah, it sounds too French! Bessie's perfect for it!"

"THE MISSION BEGINS IN ONE MINUTE"

The two stopped short for a full 5 seconds, and that's when they realized what was going to happen.

"_Connerie_! One more minute?! Teach me 'ow to use the stupid gun Bushman! You 'av one minute!"

Sniper rolled his eyes and chuckled inwardly. "Tsk, amateur. I thought yah knew how to shoot with it."

"No time for games! What do I do?"

Since the gun wasn't with him (he left it at the resupply), he tried to act as if he was holding an invisible rifle. "First, yah peek here through the scope and troy to locate enemy BLU's. Once yah foind one, wait for the recharge meter to be full for greater bullet force. It's better if yah score headshots, makes yah feel like cold blooded assassin."

Spy injected every single word into his mind. "What about your secondary weapon?"

"The SMG? Just treat it like an ordinary gun. It shoots 10 bullets per second, so don't yah waste it on far targets!"

Sniper stood up, and helped the Spy stand up as well. Spy then ran towards the stairs that lead to the first floor of their base, with Sniper not far behind.

While running, the two exchanged warnings.

"Beware of the enemy Spy and Pyro mate, especially when you're zoomed in with the scope. Wear the razor back if yah need to."

"Fine. You also 'ave to be careful with the enemy Pyro; 'e can 'Spy check' whenever 'e wants too, especially when you are near an Engineer buildi… 'ave I taught you to use the sapper?"

Sniper's face filled with nervousness. "I don't even know how to disguise, wanker!"

Both rushed up the stairs, making noisy wood sounds for very step they took. After a while, they found themselves in front of the resupply. "This is it…"

"Good luck to us, _mon ami_."

Sniper cannot believe that this was happening. "I never thought that I would have to deal with a problem as weird as this."

The Frenchman studied him, and saw that he really was in his body. There was no backing out. "Wait, you would need this."

He inserted his hand into the Sniper's pocket (which was previously his, though) and got one of the cigarettes he hid. With a lighter, he light up the cancer stick and inserted it into the Sniper's mouth.

"There, all is complete."

The Australian didn't like it, and he was never used to smoking inside of battle. He shot the Spy a look of annoyance, but didn't complain. He had to smoke so that their little play act would look more like reality. He shook of the idea of throwing the cigarette away and removed his precious Sniper hat from his own head and...

… put it on top of Spy's head.

"I hope yah die right away wanker."

"The feelings are mutual Bushman", he turned towards the resupply, and said in an Australian tone…

"Shall we?"

The two entered the resupply and were greeted by their teammates, especially the 'Medic' and the 'Scout'.

* * *

5…

Scout's hands were shivering with excitement, wanting to know what it feels like playing as a Medic. But a little part of him felt helpless because he cannot equip his favorite baseball bat.

4…

Sniper smoked like crazy, maybe because he was a bit nervous. He was fiddling with the knife clumsily, and he constantly looked at the cigarette box that had the disguise mechanisms. If only he knew how to get this to work…

3…

Medic's bat kept swinging around as he went on and on about grabbing the intelligence from dem BLU's. He had to keep a 'Scoutish' attitude, and he was doing so in a good manner. Of course, his babbles were because he was agitated, and he wasn't sure if he was going to do this right…

2…

Spy was relaxed, as if he knew well what he was going to do and felt extremely confident. Enough said.

1…

"I am charged!" cried the Scout. He noticed sparks of red electric rays coming out of the Medigun.

Heavy was pleased. "CHARGE ME DOKTOR!"

0…

EEEEEERRRRRRGGGHH!

All the classes escaped from the suffocating resupply, and ran towards the battle for the intelligence.

* * *

Thank you again to all who reviewed, followed and faved! I am motivated to continue this because of you guys! The next chapter may come up a little late, or maybe next week... I still have to deal with all the darn exams.

PLEASE REVIEW! LOVE YOU ALL!


	4. Uberchargin!

Hi guys, i'm back! But you'll probably not see me this week... EXAMS MAN, EXAMS!

Thanks to all who reviewed, faved and followed! I love you guys so much, I just cant... ASDFGHJKLKJHGFDSA!

Anyway... uh, here's the first part of the battle :D

Enjoy!

* * *

He ran.

This was the best feeling in the world for him; running nonstop and feeling the cold breeze as he cut through it. His hair swayed freely with every step he took, making him look like he was some wild animal that felt freedom for the first time.

He felt as if the world suddenly grew still, and he loved how his fellow REDs seemed to watch in awe as he moved gracefully towards the intelligence.

Nothing can stop him as he sped through the bridge and past some of the enemy BLU's.

He was quick, quick as a jack rabbit.

He noticed that the strange healing smoke from his Medigun started to be directed towards his back, and no longer in front of him.

Wait, Medigun?

"AW SHIT!"

Bad timing for a bad realization.

Scout wanted to position himself behind the huge Heavy and give him an übercharge, but it was too late. A huge man with a smug grin on his face exited the base. He was like their very own Heavy in every way, except of course, he was wearing a BLU shirt.

"Oh no. Oh no. Ohnonononono!"

BLU Heavy smiled once he locked his eyes upon the easy target. "CRY SOOOME MOOOOORE!"

The barrel of his minigun started spinning, and to a Scout at point blank range with his deadly weapon, the spinning sounded like a race car about to hit him with full force. What the BLU Heavy didn't know was that this was no ordinary Medic – he was part Scout. Surely, he could apply some of his skills to outwit the giant and surprise him with very unlikely 'Medic' moves. And so, Scout was gonna do what a Scout was gonna do in these situations.

"DOKTOR! COME BEHIND ME!" called the Heavy. His minigun's barrel started spinning and after a few seconds bullets came shooting from its mouth.

Instead of following his suggestion, the Medi-Scout tried a double jump.

A DOUBLE JUMP.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU MEDICINE SHOOTIN' BASTARD?! GET YER ASS BACK HERE!"

The rocket-jumper was not amused with the antics of their healer. Was the guy sick or is he just plain crazy?

"Shut up! I know what I'm doing!"

"YAH BETTER BE, HIPPO-FRITZ!" Solly immediately turned his attention to a BLU Demoman passing by. "And where do yah think you're going, sweetheart?"

Unfortunately for Scout, his Medic body could only do one jump. In midair he felt the panic rise from his toes to his head when he realized this. If he had the chance to add any grace to his fall, it would probably help him redeem his pride as a Scout, but the way he landed was very much ungraceful.

His feet nearly brought down a confused BLU Heavy when it landed on broad shoulders and since both gravity and balance were not on his side, he waved his arms crazily to keep from toppling from his spot. It was a defeat for him though, and he landed face first on he ground.

"OW! DA HELL WAS DAT?!"

He quickly sat up and rubbed the dust off of his eyes. Once he could see again, the first thing he saw was a flaming BLU Heavy, looking at him.

Yes, he was literally flaming. That little RED devil probably went by a while ago.

"Why you - "

Before the fuming giant could point his minigun at him, the jittery 'Medic' grabbed hold of his bat and started to hit him Scout style. "I. EAT. YOUR…"

When he did try to make a hit, he noticed that the bat was shorter than it used to be.

And that it was no longer a bat.

It was a white marble head.

"What da… WHO IN DA HELL USES STATUES AS WEAPONS - "

"DOKTOR, LOOK OUT!"

The next scene involved to Heavys shooting and shouting curses in Russian at each other at close range. Scout quickly ignored the thought of the marble bust and changed from melee to using the Medigun again.

And this time, he flicked the switch for the übercharge.

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

The Medic from the BLU team came running towards their Heavy but he was too late, and was just able to catch a glimpse of their Heavy losing his balance and falling to the bloody floor.

Right after that, his body was rained with speeding bullets.

* * *

"Oh yeah! Didja see dat? ÜBERCHAAAARGE! WE ROCK - "

"Ees something wrong, Doktor?"

The Heavy weapons guy stared skeptically at Scout, who was now sweating. He has forgotten once again the role he was playing. Damn, he needed a script.

"O-of course Herr Heavy! Don't you worry about me! Go, go! Get to the intelligence!

He pushed the Heavy as if he was some payload cart, and the Russian had no choice but to let go of his doubtfulness and obey his favorite doctor.

_Damn, that was a frickin' close call!_

* * *

Solly was annoyed.

"Come and face me like a man, Cyclops!"

_BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!_

_FOMP! FOMP! FOMP!_

The one-eyed Scotsman from the opposite team smiled evilly at him. "If yeh can catch up tah me yah helmet wearin' bastard!"

Both of them were under the tunnels, heading for the RED base. The American fanatic shot rocket after rocket at the enemy yet none of them hit him directly.

_BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!_

"Tunnel's, for Pete's sake! We're in the stupid tunnels! How could he dodge my rockets?!" mumbled the Soldier. Water splashed every time he made a move towards the base. "You are going DOWN maggot!"

_FOMP! FOMP! FOMP!_

The BLU Demoman was running backwards, away from Solly and towards the intelligence. He kept on shooting grenades that too, missed his enemy most of the time. "BURN IN HELL!"

He finally reached the stairs, and skipped most of its steps. Of course, he threw a few sticky bombs just in case that American nuthead comes running by. Once in the RED base, he kept watch for both his back and the incoming Soldier.

Water splashes were heard close by, followed by a series of shoes hitting metal.

"I GOT YAH NOW MAG – OH DAAA – "

_TEETEET… __**BOOOM!**_

The poor guy's body got decapitated messily, contributing much to Demo's jubilance. He clutched a bottle of scrumpy as the Soldier's head landed right in front of the Scotsman.

"Hahahaha gonnae kill you and I'll keep killin' you and I'll never, cause you're 'onna be dead and then I'm gonna kill you, bastard!"

He reloaded his grenade launcher and started walking carefully towards the intelligence room. No one was under their base; he could move easily around here. Of course, he could never ignore the fact that spies may be lurking about. BLU Demo shot a few grenades to all the sides of the underground of the base, but no Spy has been decapitated.

He reached the opening that lead to the small open space, and very clearly saw the word "INTELLIGENCE" up on the second floor. "Hehehehe time to get me self some intel!"

He dashed towards the wooden stairs, not noticing the level three sentry right above it and a very furious RED Soldier.

"Ack!"

Before the Scottish man shot a single grenade, a few rockets (including one from Solly) hit him right where he was standing.

_**BOOOM!**_

"YEHEHEHEHE TODAY IS A GOOD DAY, A GOOD DAY FOR KICKIN' YOUR ASS, CROSSDRESSER!"

"Hah, that was the wrong side of the field, eyepatch!" The Texan patted his sentry gun with compassion, and then gave it a few blows with his wrench. "This machine's doing mighty fine!"

"I agree on that, Engie! Thanks for the aid!"

"Anytime, partner."

Engineer watched Soldier as he ran to the front of the base. Before he reached the end of the resupply room, the American man stopped his tracks and turned towards his mate.

"What the…"

The Texan man slightly tilted his head. "Something wrong, Solly?"

"WHAT'S THAT SCOUT DOING NEAR YOUR MACHINE?"

Engineer turned his head and saw Scout, who was extremely near the dispenser like he needed it for life. "What? I'm just refilling my ammo!"

"Didn't see you shootin' any bullets tahday, son! Or should I say, SPY?"

Rockets went speeding towards the Scout and Engie's dispenser, but after the explosion, the Scout remained alive. He wasn't a Spy. He was the one and only original Scout of the REDs.

"I don't think he's a Spah Soldier; this boy's been here for almost 10 minutes."

"GET YOUR WHINY ASS OUT THERE MAGGOT! Are yah sick or something?!"

The Medic was in no condition to fight. The moment he stepped out of the base, he was shot in the head by that BLU Sniper. The next time he ran away, BLU Demoman hit him directly with one of his grenades. The third time was no different, for he got front-stabbed by a Spy.

Front-stabbed for goodness' sake. Who the heck gets front-stabbed? How embarrassing.

Those incidents hurt his pride so much that he didn't bother going out anymore. Life was much better when he was a Medic; getting all those praises from his teammates for being able to heal them and getting involved in many assists. He loved it whenever Heavy said, "I LOVE THIS DOCTOR!"

He missed his Syringe gun so much, but most of all, he missed being the only man who could give an übercharge.

"Yeah yeah, I'll go dummkopf! Just wait, I need more ammo."

A chuckle escaped the Engineer. "According to my dispenser, you've refilled your ammo minutes ago."

The Soldier was not amused, so he charged at the boy and grabbed his arm.

"Ack, vat are you doing, kamerad?" Medic was a bit uncomfortable with what Sol was doing, so he tried to break free. This only made his grip tighter. Sol turned to face the 'Scout', and he looked at him straight into the eyes.

"Stop talking like a ninny and get your shoes out there! You're the one with the speedy feet, USE IT! We need our hands on that intelligence!"

Medic wiped the saliva off his face before he reacted. "Fine, fine, but first let me go!"

Solly let go of Medic's arm, and faced the Engineer. "Watch out for the crouton, Engie! We'll go and get the intel!"

"Go ahead partner, I'm doing a-okay here."

With that, the Soldier ran and rocket jumped, leaving Medic to inhale his dust. "Ack! Shweinhunds!"

'Scout' jogged to the front of the base, and saw 'Sniper' zoomed into his scope. "Are you doing vell, mein freund? Because I am DEFINITELY NOT HAVING ZE TIME OF MY LIFE!"

The Spy stopped with his zoomed view, but before he could comment on what Medic said, he was shot on the head by his rival on the other team. His body dropped lifeless on the wooden floor.

"I vould take zat as a no."

"You doing okay boy?"

The German jumped in surprise, and turned quickly to see a worried Engineer. "Maybe Sol is right, maybe you are sick."

"No nononono I'm fine, hardhat!"

"Then why aren't you your bubbly self today? Is something wrong?"

_YES. EVERYTHING IS WRONG._

"Nope, nothin's wrong at all! Now if you'll excuse me, I have an intel to get my hands on."

_Okay, here goes. Do not die stupidly this time._

Scout jogged to the large opening and jumped high, but landed on the floor with a crack. "Aw, sheez!"

Engie closely observed the young man. "Why in the darn hell didn't the rabbit do a double jump?"

He saw Scout jogging as he went through the empty bridge, looking very paranoid like some Spy was going to backstab him out of the BLU.

Wait, something was wrong… wait a minute…

SCOUT WAS JOGGING.

"What in the hell? HEY BOY, DON'T JOG LIKE THAT! RUN, LIKE THE JACK RABBIT YOU USED TO BE!"

It's a good thing the Scout' heard him, and in time too, because a blue laser was almost in the right position for a perfect headshot. The boy sped fast, like his old self again.

"There yah go, as quick as a jack rabbit."

Engineer felt good that he was able to help one of his teammates, but his happiness was cut off by a noisy buzzing sound, which was very familiar…

Then it dawned on him.

"SPAH'S SAPPIN' MAH SENTREH!"

* * *

_Mein gott! So this is how being a Scout feels like!"_

He was running, running fast as he can while shooting randomly. He was able to finish off a Pyro earlier with the help of his Scattergun, and this made him proud again.

He reached the first floor of the enemy's base, and there he saw himself behind the Heavy. "Hey guys! How're yah doin'?"

The real Scout shot him a '_and where in da hell have you been mister_?' look. "Well ya know, we're doin' fine… until I realized about DAT FRICKIN' MARBLE MELEE…"

Medic rolled both his eyes. "Anyway, I'm headin' towards the intelligence. See yah!"

Heavy immediately blocked his way with his large gloved hands. "Niet! There is sentry up there!"

"What?" cried the fake Scout. "What do we do… Medic, how is your übercharge meter?"

A BLU Soldier suddenly came up the stairs from the tunnels. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE MAGGOTS?" He fired his rocket launcher at the trio who just stood there, like they were waiting for some train.

The Russian was fast to react. "YATATATATATATA!"

_RatatatatatatataBOOOOOM!tatatatatatatata!_

Guns fired randomly, and even the Medic was firing well with his newly accustomed weapon. It was Scout who felt helpless though, as he shot the healing rays at both of his teammates. From afar, he could hear many voices calling for his… or Medic's name. He saw Soldier running from the intelligence room, low on life. "MEDIC!"

Scout pointed his Medigun at Solly who was shooting at someone right above their heads. "MEDIC! Heal me doc!"

The Demoman on the BLU team kept throwing grenades at him. "I'm gonnae get you fer what yeh did ta me, yah bastard!"

Solly was still a bit paranoid about his life. "MEDIC!"

"I'm pointing the damn thing at yah Helmet! Would you shut the - "

"DOKTOR! Charge me!"

He quickly switched from Soldier to Heavy, and waited for the übercharge meter to be full. BLU Soldier was still shooting rockets at them.

"Go back to commie territory, Stalingrad!"

_BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!_

_Ratatatatatatatatatatataatat a!_

The 'Scout' was slowly losing his life as well. "Doc! Heal me Doctor!"

"What? Woah woah one at a time!"

His Medigun pointed from Heavy to Scout. That's when he realized that the damage from the Soldier was decreasing his teammate's life faster than usual. Not only that, he's life was affected as well. If he didn't find a med kit soon, it would sure be the start of a respawn.

"DOKTOR!"

From Scout to Heavy.

"MEEEEEDIIIC! Heal me!"

From Heavy to Soldier.

"DOC!"

From Soldier to himself.

"Mmphedph!"

Now where is that Pyro?

"MEDIC!" "Doc!" "Doctor!" "MEEEEDIIIIIC!" "Mmphedph" "DOKTOR! CHARGE ME!" "Medic!" "DOOOOCTOOOOR!" "MEDIC!" "Doc!"

That was the last straw.

"AARGH, THERE'S ONLY ONE OF ME YAH FREAKS!"

Since the übercharge startled him while his brain was in a bit of a mess, he accidentally switched on the immunity charge.

What he didn't expect was it hit the RED Sniper.

"What the fuck?!"

Spy was running fast, with his gun on one hand. He easily ran towards the open space and quickly skipped up the stairs. "What the heck are yah doin' Spook?!"

Scout had no idea that he could also switch the übercharge and target another one of his teammates. This was bad, of course, for he was just going to waste a valuable charge on a Sniper.

Who in his right mind would übercharge a Sniper?

"What… Mon Dieu! Why am I under the übercharge? Are you crazy you running virgin?!"

"Call me a virgin again and I swear I'm gonna dissect yah! I was supposed to hit it to da fat guy! You came in da way and, well it's WASTED!"

"MEDIC!" called the Demoman.

Scout sighed heavily. "WAIT FOR IT CYCLOPS!"

Spy and Scout were found in front of the main resupply of the BLU's, and that was not a good spot for them, most especially if you have two level three sentries pointed at you.

_RatatatatatatatataBOOOOMtata tatatatataBOOMatatatatata!_

"Let's get out of here Spook!"

Both of them ran for their lives, and thanks to the 10 second invincibility, they were not harmed by the sentries. But boy, Scout's life was barely a 5.

"I need a Medic… DOC! Oh wait… can I heal myself?"

Spy rolled his eyes. "Idiot."

The two were now speeding through the slope, making sure they go away from the resupply as fast as possible. After the critical seconds, Scout was able to lay his eyes on the med kit laying in the intelligence basement.

"Yes! Finally…"

He proceeded to the life-saving kit but was overtaken by the Spy. He wore a smug grin on his very Australian face. "Oh excusez-moi, I was in need of that Med kit."

"WHAT?! I'mma frickin' Medic! Yah could have asked me yah crouton! I needed that med kit!"

They heard steps descending from the stairs that led to the BLU basement. Then a voice shouted: "Mmmpehg ergh mmph!"

Oh shit, a Pyro.

And the he was so low on health.

"Damn you Spy, just… damn you!"

He ran to the main intelligence room – if he was going to die in here, then he might as well die as the first among his teammates to get a hold of the intelligence. The Spy followed him, hoping that if the 'Medic' dies, he could be there to catch the intel.

THE ENEMY HAS TAKEN OUR INTELLIGENCE!

The BLU Pyro stood straight all of a sudden, and then he rushed to the main intel room. Sure enough, he saw a Medic and a Sniper running away with papers marking their trail. "Mmmph!"

He ran fast, and flicked the switch of his Rainblower.

_FSSSSSSSSHHHHHH!_

"Ah, Fire fire!"

Scout ran as far as he could get, so that his fellow REDs could easily claim the enemy intel. He ran up the stairs, only to be greeted by another level three sentry.

_RatatatatatataBOOOM!_

The Medic's body fell to the ground below, carrying the intelligence with it.

THE ENEMY HAS DROPPED OUR INTELLIGENCE!

* * *

WE HAVE DROPPED THE ENEMY INTELLIGENCE!

Sniper was not enjoying this at all. He has been standing at that corner of the tunnels, watching as REDs and BLUs whooshed by. He was not in a disguise yet, for he had no idea as to how he could let the 'disguise-inducing' cigarette box work.

"Aw, bloody hell", he mumbled to himself.

* * *

And there... Chapter ees done... (runs away with hands on face, sobbing)

I swear i'll make it longer next weekend... I swear... Anyway, I had a fun time writing this chappie! I hope you guys enjoyed!

Please review when you read, it inspires me a lot! And oh... well, just some additional info, my name is Dr Engie whenever i play TF2. Maybe we've met somewhere before... maybe in Decoy, or in 2fort... or maybe in Dustbowl...

Okay I'll shut up now. More of Sniper being a Spy in the next chapter, and a look on how Spy handled the headshots.

TTFN! Tata for now! (bounces away)


	5. Backstabs and 'eadshots

Yoh! I'm back! Just returned from reading another TF2 fanfic... it really made me go on an adventure, you know? The title's "Reunion", then it has a 2nd part, called "Afterwards - Book 1"...

It was one of the best fanfics i've ever read.

Anyway, thanks to all who reviewed, faved, and followed! I'm sendin' y'all my kisses!

Now, shall we?

* * *

"How on earth does this bloody device work?!"

Sniper had been staring at the cigarette box for some time now. Because of his confusion and boredom, he felt as if some narrator found his way into his head, narrating about how much time has passed since he started cloaking under the tunnels.

_It's been nearly 15 minutes and I am barely alive… I still have not done anything, and both food and water are getting scarce... If this keeps up, I would have to drink my own piss - _

"Shut up brain, I need to think!"

He quickly sat down, still cloaked. His head rested on the palm of his right arm as he squat on the cold floor, thinking about the situation. His brows met as he analyzed he invisible device he was holding. As long as he refrained from moving, he will remain invisible to the naked eye, thanks to the cloak-and-dagger.

Oh how he missed being a Sniper.

Metal clonks were heard… someone was approaching. He raised his head to see who it was.

The clonks got stronger, and suddenly, the head of the RED Pyro peeked from one corner of the tunnel. Once he was sure that 'no one' was around, he went by him and refilled both his ammo and health.

"Mmmph!"

The little devil flicked the switch of his Degreaser, and started to spread fire around the platform. Since they were on the same team, it had no effect on the hidden 'Spy'.

But something really close to him started burning.

"Ah! Fire, FIRE!" cried the voice, in a French accent.

"_Bloody hell?"_ thought the Sniper. Who the heck was that?

The RED Pyro beamed in an instant. "Mermmph! Hermph hermph hermph hermph herrrrrrmph!"

He followed the burning invisible force with his fire, and eventually they were deep in the tunnels. Sniper was not able to see them after that, but he did hear the sound of a dead body hitting the metal and a psychopathic laugh coming out of a gas mask.

"_It was the wanker from the other team!"_ thought the Sniper. _"Damn crouton! Why can't he just find his own spot and hoide there?!"_

Suddenly a thought struck him like one of Soldier's rockets. Sniper's eyes grew to the size of saucers.

"HOW LONG WOS THAT FRENCH BASTARD SITTIN' NEXT TAH ME?!"

Did he know that he was there?!

Sniper did NOT like what was going on. It would be better if he went away from this place and start roaming around than to stay and hide beside another cloaked bastard that wasn't there. He stood up, but before he kept the cigarette box he was holding, he took one of the sticks (specifically the third one) and placed it in his mouth. Using Spy's trusty lighter, he put a flame to the end of the stick.

Besides, that Frenchie's lungs are probably damaged already. No harm would happen if he smoked some more.

The Australian man (in soul but not in body) made his way through the empty tunnels. He was not able to track the amount of cloak time left, and he was distracted by the sounds of the water splashes and his brain talking to himself… This made him unaware that he was no longer cloaked.

The stairs were clearly seen at the end of the tunnel, and so the former sharpshooter swaggered towards it.

Then he saw the BLU logo stamped to the side of the wall.

"Oh damn… wrong side!"

He didn't know what to do… should he charge and backstab someone? He doesn't even know how to disguise! What about going back to base? The real Spy might tease him for being a coward… going back is not an option. Should he cloak? He saw already cloaked, so why not try to enter enemy base?

He climbed each step carefully, watching out for any bloody BLUs that would go by them.

"Oi! What are yah doin' here Mumbles?"

'Spy' froze in his track, and slowly looked at the BLU Sniper, eye to eye.

That BLU Sniper, that stupid little bastard, that son-of-a-three-legged-kangaroo, that annoying prick that rivaled him in his own unique skill…

With him around, his skill isn't considered unique around here. How'd he see him anyway? He was cloaked, wasn't he?

"Go Spy check on those machines of the Truckie; he needs your help you know."

What?

"_What's going on? Doesn't he know I am a Spy?"_

"Werrh arrh yermmph terrmmph…."

Bloody hell.

"_BLU Pyro…!"_ thought the Sniper as it dawned on him. Confusion started to fill his brain. _"HOW IN THE HELL DID I DISGUISE AS THE BLU PYRO?!"_

This isn't the best situation for him. He was trapped in a puddle of thoughts. How did he activate disguise? Did he do something earlier, triggering the damn box? Was it that bloody wanker that sat next to me for the whole time, under a cloak? Or did that damn Frenchie toy with the device just to make him have a hard time trying to get the concept of disguising?

"You okay there mate? Wait a minute…"

BLU Sniper hit him with the rifle he was holding and that pained the Aussie very much.

"ERGH! MMPH ERMPHERRMPH!"

The Sniper just said 'OW!', but the word had more syllables in Pyro language. How does the arsonist keep up with such slurred speech anyway? But he needed to set those Pyro thoughts aside first; his true identity has been revealed, and he had to have an escape plan.

"SPOI!"

The BLU Sniper changed his weapon fast, and a split second later, he was holding his SMG. Bullet after bullet shot from the gun, but most of it missed the 'Pyro' who started jumping sideways.

"Stay put yah Frenchie!"

"Mrrrph!"

Thanks to his fast feet, Sniper was able to get a good glimpse of his rival's back.

He stabbed.

"ARGH!"

The body went limp and fell like a ragdoll and after a few minutes, it seemed to dissolve into the air. This signified the respawn going on. The Pyro disguise wore off in an instant and this exposed his true character.

But this was not the case, what was important was what the Sniper has achieved.

"I… I was able to backstab the damn wanker…" he muttered to himself. He never thought that he'd actually be able to do it… It seemed impossible at first, but not anymore.

Sniper grinned to himself, and proceeded to take another one of his cigarettes. "HaHAH! Take that, yah blind-eyed bastard! You've been killed by the BEST!" cried the Sniper, in a tone that would make you believe that this man never took a step in French territory, but spent his whole life under the hot desserts of Australia. The 'Spy' flicked the lighter, and lit up his cigarette… but a gloved hand from behind caught it before he could even place the stick in his mouth.

"_What the?"_

A hot breath whispered into his right ear. "Did you miss me, _mon ami_? _Non_? Oh, I'm sure you miss THIS!"

_Shwack!_ The BLU Spy's knife cut deep into Sniper's heart. He grinned evilly as he let go of his opponent, and dramatically stepped before him, loving the scene of his 'rival' dying. "Something's not right with you my friend… is it because you suddenly started to… suck?!"

The Aussie fell forward; his right hand clutching his heart as the burning pain spread all over his body. He secretly took out the Ambassador and made sure that this was not seen by the annoying Spook. "I… argh… nev… never _missed_ yah…"

BANG!

"…_head_, bloody Spook."

Both bodies collapsed on the grounds of the enemy base.

That was one of the best close-up head shots the Sniper has done in his whole life as a mercenary. Once a Sniper, always a Sniper.

A full, satisfied smile remained on his dead face.

"_Boom… headshot."_

* * *

"_Merd__é_, 'eadshot!"

What was happening to him?

He was losing his cool, of course.

Spy stomped angrily as he exited the resupply room for the 4th… or 5th… wait. How many times has he died already?

Even he lost count. Yet what he did not forget was that all of his deaths were caused by one and one person only…

And we all know who it was.

"Once I get my sights on that 'ippie, I will definitely KILL 'im right away!" said the Spy. He positioned himself near the Texan's dispenser found in the left wooden corner of the anterior side of their base. He was starting to feel a bit nervous and doubtful and this kept him from charging at the enemy Sniper.

He imagined himself taking once step into that open space, and getting shot in the head a second after.

Ugh, not the prettiest sight, I must tell you. Besides, that place was Sniper haven.

But he had to have his revenge. _Putain_, it would have been easier if he were a Spy… especially since it was a Sniper dominating him. Just a simple backstab to the back would teach that damn Australian a lesson.

Oh how he missed being a Spy.

"Hard day huh, Stretch?" asked the Engineer. He was banging his level three sentries with the Wrench. "But sometimes we win, sometimes we lose… that's the cycle 'round here in Teufort."

"Tsk, I'm afraid so mate."

Despite the troubles he was facing, the Spy had to keep his act up. It was one of the best things he could do; lie and pretend.

"Not that I want to brag, Spook, but I actually killed two tahday."

The Spy turned around to see his smirking self.

"Have yah killed anyone tahday, mate?" Sniper asked him. He finally had something to brag about; a pie to press to the arrogant face of the prideful Frenchman.

Before he was able to reply, the Spy took a good look around the surroundings. Engineer was nowhere near them, probably setting up teleporters for easy access to the intelligence room. He had to be careful whenever he was talking around the toymaker… that guy can analyze a situation like a child's jigsaw puzzle. Well, he's an Engineer… he could always solve practical problems and out-of-place situations.

"I'm quite sure that you just got lucky, Bushman. Don't press your luck though… it'll run out soon."

"You're just saying that because yah weren't able to kill anyone since the beginning of the countdown!"

"Didn't I tell you to stop using your weird Australian accent on my voice?"

"Now you're just changin' the bloody subject."

Spy rubbed his temples, trying to convey to the sharpshooter that he was getting irritated. "Do not disturb me… and stop acting like a child! This is not some game of who-kills-the-most-people! Shoo, get out of my sight –

BOOM!

Sniper stood stiffly as he watched his own body got shot to the ground by a powerful bullet. "Tsk tsk, looks loike he's not having a blast at doing my job…"

* * *

WE HAVE TAKEN THE ENEMY INTELLIGENCE!

"_Runrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunr - "_

_BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!_

"COME BACK YAH LITTLE MAGGOT!"

_FOMP! FOMP! FOMP!_

"WHERE ARE YEH HEADED TO, YEH WEE SCAMPERIN' WEASEL?"

_Ratatatatatatatatatatata!_

"DO NOT RUN LEETLE MAN!"

_FSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHH!_

"Errmph erghh mmmpph!"

_BONK!_

"GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE YA KNUCKLEHEAD!"

At this rate, he was never going make it. All offense classes and two defenses were all after him, making sure that he was not going anywhere outside their base with their intel. The Medic got hold of his scattergun and started shooting while running backwards.

He started to say some of his threats, just in case they would work. "Hold still dummfopfs! Zhis vill only sting for a moment - "

But his intimidations were nothing for a sentry gun equipped with rockets.

_RatatatateeteetBOOMtatatatat ata!_

THE ENEMY HAS DROPPED OUR INTELLIGENCE!

The 'Scout's' body was shot to the wall, thanks to the BLU Engineer's sentry gun.

"Whoooeee! That's just one sad display boy!" he said. The enemy Texan then repaired and refilled the bullets of his contraption. "That'll keep 'em from comin'."

* * *

WE HAVE DROPPED THE ENEMY INTELLIGENCE!

Spy's headache was seriously starting to get bad…

He exited the second resupply room (the one to the right), half annoyed that he was STILL not able to get revenge on the enemy, and half humiliated that he got head shot right in front of that idiot Bushman.

Once outside, the first thing he saw was the Sniper leaning on the wooden wall with arms crossed, and a serious look on his face.

Spy's headache went from bad to worse.

"And what is it that you want this time, Bushman?"

"Maybe yah need a little tutorial on how tah use Debbie."

The Frenchman wanted to chuckle but the pain in his head was keeping him from doing so. "And what makes you think that I need one?"

"Because you're bat shit."

Ouch.

Spy exhaled deeply. "If you're just going to insult me - "

"In exchange, I want you to help me figure this bloody contraption out", said the Sniper, as he held out the cigarette box.

Oh. Looks like the Sniper hasn't figured it out his disguise mechanism yet.

"Fine, fine, _l'enfance de l'art_."

He took the cigarette box from his comrade, and picked the eighth stick. He then shot it into the other man's mouth and flicked it with a lighter.

Smoke seemed to seep out around the Sniper, which somehow puzzled him.

"Now talk to me, Bushman."

"What wos that all abou… Oi, I have my normal voice again! How'd yah do it?"

The Sniper looked at his arms and his whole body. Indeed, he was himself again. He wore the same hat, shirt, vest, sunglasses, and he was even carrying a gun… which of course was not real, for he was actually carrying the Ambassador. How did the Spook make him disguise?

Plus, he wasn't disguised as a BLU, but rather as a friendly RED Sniper.

"Wos it the cigarette, mate?"

Spy nodded his head in agreement. "_Oui_. There are 9 cigarettes in all, each for one class. It is arranged according to class type too, so the first cigar stick is for when you have to disguise as the Scout, the next for the Soldier, then the Pyro, Demoman, 'eavy, Engineer, Medic, yourself, and then me…"

"But how is it that I'm RED?"

"Ah, you just 'ave to take the cigars from the second set. Those are for disguising as our own teammates."

Sniper held the box close to his eyes. "Ah… no wonder I was the Pyro a while ago."

"You disguised?"

"Pretty much, mate. 'xept that I had no idea that I wos in disguise. Nearly got killed by that bloody kangaroo."

Silence followed, leaving each one deep inside their thoughts. Spy was thinking about how the bastard was able to kill two men without knowing much about the disguise and cloaking, while the Sniper half marveled and half rejoiced that he was temporarily himself again.

The Spy carefully observed the man in front of him. He was looking at his hands, smiling like a child being praised.

Lucky bastard. At least he could be seemingly in his own body for a short amount of time. What about himself? He had no chance of going back to his own body unless that crazy man… now a boy, would fix up the weird machine that caused all this…

The stillness of their current situation didn't last long, though. The silence was broken by, of course, that loud mouthed American.

He's usually the one with the best silence-breaking capabilities.

"WHAT ARE YAH MAGGOTS STANDING AROUND FOR? ARE YAH WAITING FOR THE 4th OF JULY?!"

The two mercenaries shot him annoyed looks, which had no effect on the helmet-donning Soldier. Their laser stare merely bounced off his hard helmet. He jumped right in front of the two of them, who were standing in front of the second resupply room. "I said… WHAT ARE YAH MAGGOTS - "

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH MATE I HEARD YOU LOUD AND CLEAR!" cried one of the two BLU Snipers.

Surprisingly, it was the real Spy who shouted. His bad mood was making him lose his 'cool and collected' type of personality.

"HOW DARE YAH TALK BACK TAH ME CAM - "

_BANG!_

Solly's body fell to the floor and his helmet went rolling on the wood.

* * *

"That helmet's going to make a nice bowl for ya brains."

The BLU Sniper chuckled loudly to himself before he resumed looking through his scope. Man, this was a good day for him… all those poor, defenseless heads just keep popping out from anywhere. He's counted 17 kills, with 10 of them being headshots.

He didn't lose count at all; most especially since he knew that he has headshot that RED piker 8 times now.

How'd he become such an easy target?

"Yah havin' a good time, partner?" asked the BLU Engineer who just grabbed a few pieces of metal. He quickly used to refill his ammo and the rockets of the sentry as well.

"You bet, Truckie. It's quoite unusual though, they were always careful about crossing out in the open space… especially that RED Australian son-of-a-bitch… he's usually quick as a dingo when he shoots… wonder what happened tah him?"

BLU Engineer grabbed his PDA from his pocket and chose to build a dispenser near his mate. "Don't cha worry 'bout it Stretch… he just needs more oil on that rusty hinges of his. Good for you though, 'cause you're still up and runnin' quite fine."

By the time the Texan was done talking, his dispenser almost finished assembling itself. He gave a few blows to the machine for faster construction. "You know, I can't help but notice that somethin's wrong with the REDs today… I mean, their Scout usually charges for our more than 10 times in a row, and gets killed quite easily if he has no back-up…"

"Whot's wrong with their Scout now?"

"So far, he's reached the intel twice… and it takes a longer time for him to come back, plus, he has a new strategy whenever he comes back… not like his old self who keeps chargin' and chargin'."

The BLU Sniper looked through his scope to see if there were any new heads to shoot. After a short surveillance over the area, he figured that most of the offenses and defenses were either in the bases or the tunnels. It's rather funny though, their marksman hasn't shown up yet since his last death. He put his gun down and slowly approached the Engineer's dispenser for ammo.

"I think I know wot you're talkin' about, mate. I mean, that RED two-faced mongrel acted all unusual too. He didn't seem to be - "

_BANG!_

The BLU Sniper's body collapsed a second after, and his hat was carried by the wind before it reached the floor. His mate merely stared and continued to upgrade his dispenser.

"Looks like someone's back on his horse."

* * *

"And there yah go, headshot."

The 'Spy', whose disguise of a friendly RED Sniper just evaporated, calmly gave his rifle to the Frenchman. "It's quite easy, yah wanker. You just have to find the right timing… and don't stay out in the open so long! It makes yah a head a bloody bull's eye for target practice."

"That's just it?... You make it look so easy Bushman… but of course, I can do an 'eadshot as neatly as you can."

The Sniper wouldn't believe him.

"If yah can, then show me."

The crouton grabbed Sniper's (in Spy's body) hand and removed the cloak-and-dagger. He swiftly wore it around his right hand and focused his eyes with the rifle's scope.

"What do yah intend tah do - "

"Shush, keep quiet Bushmn."

He fiddled with the watch and after a second, his whole body disappeared.

"Yah still there Spook?"

"_Oui._"

The Aussie in the suit stood impatiently and to show this to his companion, he leaned against the wall with arms crossed, far away from BLU Sniper's vision. He continued to stare at the 'Sniper' that wasn't there. "You know, if that American potato-head comes back and sees me standin' around like an idiot, I'm pretty sure that the situation won't be good for me."

"Shut your mouth; I need to concentrate."

Spy stood quietly while observing his teammates from afar.

He caught site of the Scout, the real Scout, who was firing his übercharge rays ate the huge Russian. They were able to kill a Pyro, a Soldier, a Scout and a cloaked Spy as they walked through the bridge, and it was quite clear on his face that he was enjoying every second of it, and he laughed maniacally as if he were the one holding Heavy's weapon.

But once the effects of invulnerability wore off, the Scout's expression changed from domination to fear.

"Oh man, back out, backoutbackout! No more übercharge fat guy, I repeat, NO MORE ÜBERCHARGE!" he cried as he ran backwards leaving the Heavy, who was quite confident that his Medic was still with him, to continue into the base. He quickly grabbed his Syringe gun and fired it like crazy as a BLU Demoman approached. "THIS SHIT IS DEFINITELY NOTHIN' LIKE MY SODA POPPER!"

Spy chuckled to himself. _"Looks like I am not the only one with the little 'class' difficulties."_

He looked in front of him and saw the BLU Sniper in the same damn place as he ever was ever since. This is it, a perfect moment.

"Spook, I have no idea of whot you are planning but - "

"Shush!"

" – I highly doubt that - "

"I said 'shush'!"

" – you are going to be able tah - "

"SHUSH!"

"Quit shushing me, yah posey - "

"SHUUUUUSH!"

If the Sniper was going to keep talking, he would not be able to concentrate on his unknowing target. He positioned the scope right where the crosshairs pointed the head of his enemy.

The position, timing, angle, air velocity and moment were perfect. It was time for his revenge.

_PSSSSSH…_

That caught the Australian's attention. "Wait… are yah decloaking?"

_BANG!_

From afar, the BLU Engineer witnessed the second time his mate has died.

"'Ahahaha, no worries, mate! 'Ahahahaha!" laughed the Spy as he gave back the cloak-and-dagger to its temporary owner. "I just gave you a taste of your own medicine!"

The Sniper was not amused. "Yer a bloody cheat, yah know that?"

He took one of his cigarettes from his newly acquired box. "What can I say, Bushman? Once a Spy, always a Spy."

* * *

ALERT! THE ENEMY HAS TAKEN OUR INTELLIGENCE!

Oh crap.

Engineer ran from the front of the base, down to the slopes, and into the intel room. Sure enough, he'd found a BLU Scout carrying their intelligence. "See yah, knucklehead!"

"Dang dagnabbit, damn it!" The Texan kept his Wrench and took out his trusted Frontier Justice and started shooting at the quick kid. Of course, he was too slow to keep up. The Bostonian shot him twice, and the pain was enough to make him fall and shout in agony. He caught sight of their 'Scout' exiting the underground resupply, and the enemy nearly bumped into him as he sped towards the stairs to the outside of the intel room.

The Medic's eyes grew wide but he just stood there as the Scout backed up and rushed to the stairs.

"What're yah doing, son? That string bean's got our intel!"

"Do you zhink zhat I vould be able to catch up to zhat?!" asked the Medic. He pointed at the stairs and shot the Engineer a look of disbelief.

"Whaa?" Engie asked himself, and his gut reacted again. But that was beside the main point. "You are the SCOUT! OF course you'll be able to catch up to him, son! What is wrong with your head today?!"

That sentence slapped the Medic hard enough to get him back to what was going on…

Oh… _right._

"Ah! M'on mah way hardhat!"

With that, the German ran like the Scout he was supposed to be. His 'lag' really bothered the Engineer though, and this didn't make the feeling of respawn quite confortable.

* * *

"Hey! The freak's got the intel!"

The real Scout heard this, and he just got out of the main resupply room. "Really? Da hell is he now?"

Medic shot him a _'play-your-part-'cause-I'm-playing-mine-well' _look at the young man, then ran towards the wooden stairs, where the newly respawned Engie was building a sentry. "He's in the tunnels!"

Heavy, who also came from the resupply, overheard this. "Da! Let us catch him Doktor!"

"We can't get there fast enough!"

"Yeah yah can, Truckie's got teleporters under the tunnels!"

The Engineer stopped hitting his level 2 sentry for a brief moment and took a good long look at the Frenchman_. "Wait… did the Spah just call me Truckie?"_

The Sniper jogged to the nearest teleporter and stood on it. He quickly grabbed one of the cigarettes, and disguised as the BLU Sniper. "Yah can get there faster if yah use this."

The machine started to spin quickly, and lights covered the 'Spy'. In a second, he was teleported to the tunnels.

"I must be hearing things…" whispered the Engineer as he continued to upgrade his killing machines

Both the 'Medic' and the Heavy each stood on the teleporter, one before the other. In a few seconds, both were shooting bullets underground.

* * *

He's so near… so damn near… just a few more steps and when these stairs ran out, he'd be in BLU territory…

"Yah ain't gonna catch me yah faggots! Waananana!"

He ran, faster than before. Once passed through their team's Heavy, he felt come kind of assurance that he was going to make it.

Halfway throught the wooden stairs, he heard shouts… Voices of two Heavy's and a Medic were heard. He stopped for a while to listen to the noises they made.

"DIEEEE!"

_Ratatatatatatatatatatata!_

"I WILL KEEL YOU FIRST!"

_Ratatatatatatatatatatata!_

"Yeah! And I… will heal da fat guy 'till your brains explode, fat-ass!"

Sure enough, they won against the BLU Heavy… this was thanks to Scout's Medigun and the approaching soldier.

"LET'S MOVE, COMMRADES!"

"Ahahaha, we beat the butterball! Now run fat guy; we could still catch up to that BLU knucklehead!"

Once the BLU Scout heard this, he resumed running towards their intel room. But something suspicious got stuck in his mind… He can't quite place it…

"Oi, how're yah doin', mate?"

The boy jerked as he ran to the room, and relaxed when he saw it was the BLU Sniper. "Oh, s'just yah…"

Before he placed the intel on the table, the BLU Bostonian stopped for a while. "Yah know what Snipes…?"

"Whot, something wrong, bugger?"

"Do you feel dat something's quite weird with da RED Medic? He kinda sounds familiar tah me…"

Uh-oh.

The 'Sniper' shook his head. _"Damn, even the enemy caught up with our switch... Is it that obvious?"_

"Of course he's familiar tah you, you hear him almost every day - "

"No not dat kind of familiar, _familiar_… I mean, his tone's quite different. Kinda sounds like dat RED faggot, yah noo?"

Sniper looked around. They were already inside the intelligence room, and the kid was only a few feet away from their table.

He too, was a few steps away from their intel table… now he's only problem was the l'il bugger.

"Whaddayah think, Snipes? It's kinda creepin' me out…"

The Australian hesitated, and decided to prolong the moment. "How can you say that, mate? D'yah have evidence?"

"He calls me a faggot… and almost killed me with a stinkin' marble head…"

"Nothing weird with that."

"… he hit me while sayin', 'Look at this, just caved in your skull- my bat's still dry. No clumps a' hair, nothin'. I'm tellin' yah Snipes, somethin' weird's goin' on!"

Sheesh, that little bugger was not a good actor.

Steps were heard, and another BLU Sniper came into sight. Both of them shifted their attention to the man. "Hey, why isn't the intel – SPOI!"

When the BLU Scout faced his conversation partner, he nearly choked on his saliva.

He was staring at the RED French bastard.

"Ah, SPY!"

Sniper lunged forward with the butterfly knife, but missed so bad because of the kid's speed. The BLU Sniper got a hold of his SMG and started firing at the traitor. "Oi kiddo, capture the intel!"

The kid was quick to dodge another stab from the Sniper, and he ran so fast towards the table that he stumbled on it, slipped across, and fell to the other side.

SUCCESS! WE HAVE SECURED THE ENEMY INTELLIGENCE!

The Aussie heard the 'Medic' and Solly nearby cuss words as a sentry beeped. He shifted his gaze from the ridiculously posed Scout to his former rival, only to be greeted by a rifle muzzle that was gently pressed against his balaclava.

"Good night yah bloody Spook."

* * *

...And that's it.

They lost the mission that day, and Sol's not too happy about it. The next chappie will be about how they would spend the weekend as the other class...

... and Engie might just figure out their little secret.

Anyway, thanks for reading! Don't forget to review, fave, and follow! Next chapter will probably be out next week :D

See yah!


	6. Breakfast

Yes! Semestral break, nyahaahaha!

Again, I would like to thank all my sponsors... and of course those who reviewed, faved and followed!

This chappie's all about breakfast, so enjoy! Here we go!

* * *

It was silent and dark around the base, but one room was dimly lit by an old lamp on a wooden table. Beside the lamp were several blueprints and pens… there was also an oil can and a Wrench. Engie's heavy feet were both on the antique piece of furniture, and he furiously jotted down important points into his notepad as the fire from the lamp flickered whenever the wind came by.

Today was not a success, and he had to learn from his mistakes.

"Ninth reminder… ALWAYS keep an eye on your sentry… don't be too far away. Oh, and try to shoot anyone near the dispenser… better safe than sorry."

He let his pen tip rest on his lips, and looked at what he has written so far. The Texan's eyes grew wide once he remembered some of the events that happened last afternoon; his feet flew off the table and landed on the ground…

It was time to be serious. After a few lag seconds, he started scribbling again.

"Medic was not himself today…", he wrote. "He was too… frisky and energetic, unlike before, when he was most of the time too reserved. Today his eyes were full of spirit, but before it were just… as cold as Antarctica…"

He let himself relax on the chair's backrest and his hands, notepad and pen went under his head as he looked worriedly at the ceiling. "He kind of reminds me of…"

Wait.

The Scout was acting weird too… he wasn't bouncy, in fact he's actions are opposed to that, for he was too careful.

That jackrabbit was never careful... well of course, he's the Scout. He was supposed to be the one who first charges and survey the enemy lines. Most of the time, the most careful among them was the healer of the group because he's the one who tends to those with decreasing life, plus if he dies, then it would be quite an unfortunate round for their team. The Medic always does his job cautiously, and it's –

Wait.

"The Medic acted like the string bean, while on the other hand the string bean behaved much like the Medic… plus, I think I heard the 'Scout' say some words in German…"

Engineer lazily got off his chair and sunk his whole body on the bed. His thoughts were adding up to the stress he felt that day…

"Bah, whenever the day starts with that damn Yankee shouting into my ear, it ends up as a stressful one." He removed his helmet and goggles, set it on the tiny drawer beside his bed, and started thinking.

"Also, the Spy called me 'truckie'… either I just misinterpreted what he really said or he and Sniper have magically switched minds and behaviour… hahaha that's ridiculous, switching minds…"

The Engineer chuckled to himself, and dozed off to dreamland.

* * *

The morning started fairly well, with the birds chirping from the west as the sun rose at the east. Normally, it was Solly with his buff banners who brings the mercenaries up and crawling on both hands and feet damn early at daybreak, but this time Engie awoke with no external force to needed to push him away from the bed.

It was a thought that made him wake up like a student two hours late for class.

He nearly jumped off his bed, with only one thing running around his mind.

"What if they _DID_ switch minds?"

The Texan rubbed his chin as he wondered about the idea. "I knew something was different when I entered the medical bay! T'was too messy in there too, with all the metal fragments and wires sparkin' out electricity… something happened down there, I just know it!"

He quickly grabbed his towel and ran for the shower. There, he continued wondering silently.

"_Scout acted like medic, and vice versa… it's quite the same for both Sniper and Spy… well, nothing seemed to be weird with Sniper yesterday"_, thought the Engineer. He had to stop talking to himself loudly, since their lavatory was shared, and was separated by stalls only. People could clearly hear him if ever he mumbled noisily. _"But if he and Spy did switch minds, that would mean Spy's in Sniper's body… and that Frenchman is quite good in acting and playing different roles of different people; he could easily copy Slim's actions for they spend a lot of time around each other…"_

After a few scrubs around his body, he dried himself with a thick towel.

"_Slim, on the other hand, is a whole other situation… that guy's not an expert in acting like Spy…. Plus, he can't speak French well - "_

Wait a minute.

When he entered the bay yesterday, the 'Spy' said something in French… but it made no sense. He remembered his conversation about languages with the Sniper a long time ago, and if he recalled correctly, the only French word that his partner knew was '_escargot_', which he believed summed up the whole language and could be used to describe the French people and country itself, but more specifically the guy that he hated most. _"That bloody wanker? Oh, I think he's some cowardly escargot… whatevah that means."_

And Engie's pretty sure that he NEVER heard the word 'escargot' from Spy's mouth. If ever he did, it would have sounded like 'es-car-gouh'… What he heard yesterday was a very Australian 'ehs-cah-gouht'.

The thick towel was wrapped around the toymaker's waist, and he rushed back to his small room.

"_If this is real, well I'll be… It's sure to be one hell of a scientific breakthrough!" _thought the Engineer as he waddled towards his quarters. _"But why are they keeping it a secret from us, their teammates?"_

The only possibilities are because of fear, embarrassment… or pride.

Once he reached his room, Engie quickly locked it from the inside and put on a white t-shirt and his usual pants. Today was the first day of their weekend, so it's not necessary to wear their respective uniforms.

"I will definitely get to the bottom of this…", he told himself as he wore his goggles. "… hasn't it occurred to them that I could help them return to normal? But I'm not even that sure about that 'mind switch' assumption…"

He grabbed his helmet from the top of the drawer and lazily placed it on his head. He also grabbed a few blueprints and his Wrench before heading out to breakfast. "Well, now that I was able to observe and I currently have a hypothesis… hehehe," he chuckled darkly, "it's time to proceed to the experiments."

* * *

"Yo, good day Mumbles!"

The Pyro turned to look at who greeted him… and got a bit confused. Nevertheless, it would be rude to not return the greeting. "Gurhd mrrning, Dhrrk!"

The 'Medic' sat down next to him on their dining table, on the seat where Scout normally sits and looks at him too attentively. The kid still hasn't given up on finding out who/what the red devil was under the mask, whether he was male or female, young or old, human or… not human.

Today was different for Pyro though, for he was staring straight at the Medic whose face was only about 3 inches away from his mask. His eyes were squinting the way Scout does every breakfast time.

"Urgh… rrh yrruh urhky Mrrhdrc?"

That made Scout realize what he had just done.

"Oh… huh? OH! Yes, yes, herr Pyro! I'm totally sorry 'bout that!" He adjusted his eyeglasses awkwardly and looked away from immediately. He stumbled of his chair, regained composure the way Medic does, and proceeded to find another chair in a slow and very formal Medic manner. The Pyro on the other hand did not view this as a normal Medic move, but instead he nearly chuckled due to the way the 'Doctor' was exaggerating his formalness. "Ah… uhm, I just feel a bit… sick, if you know what I mean."

He sat down on the chair farthest from Pyro, slapped his forehead, and murmured like an idiot.

"Damn it! Stupid, stupid! Medic never says stuff like 'if you know what I mean'… Gosh!"

"Medic never says what?"

The Bostonian jerked as he turned around to see his very strict-looking face. "Ahem, sorry to disturb you, 'Doc', but I think I overheard something."

"Nah, it's nothin' doc… just mindin' mah own business ovah here!" He smiled the way he normally does, until a hand gently slapped him on his right cheek.

"Stop acting like _ein kind, junge_!" He stood straight and looked down at 'himself'. "You are in my body now, act like it!"

Scout slouched, turned away, and rested his head on his hand. "Yeah right… frickin' old Nazi dude."

The real German popped a vein. "Excuse me… **vhat did you just say?"**

A dark aura was being emitted from the 'currently younger' man, and this did not comfort Scout in anyway. He still did not turn to face the Medic, for he sensed that he would not like the look on his face. "I said, 'alright dear fellow awesome gentleman, I will act like the awesome gentle man yah are'."

Pyro, who was witnessing their actions, merely tilted his head in sheer confusion.

Medic grabbed the Scout by the collar and nearly shook him crazily, but a voice interrupted the two. "Good mornin', partners!"

Both men saw the Engineer and the Soldier come out of the hall and into their dining room. "What are yah two ninnies blabbering about?!"

Solly was obviously not in a good mood, it is easy to tell by the way his helmet was placed on his head. It was overly slanted, almost covering the right side of his face. This is probably due to their loss yesterday.

Scout took the opportunity to show Medic how he could act like him perfectly.

"This young _kind_ does not know his manners! Look at zhe vay he is holding me! Such a disrespectful boy!"

Medic raised a brow and tried to react, but was interrupted by Solly who grabbed him by his collar. "YOU BRAT! Show some respect to the elderly! Do not forget that I STILL have NOT forgiven you for what happened yesterday!"

"Okay, calm down now Sol, it wasn't his fault… there was just a little defect in our plans and that's why we weren't able to perform well yesterday", said the Engineer. He slowly separated the Soldier from the 'Scout' whose face was now covered with droplets of American saliva. "Now sit down and behave like a real American, Sol."

Whenever Engie uses the word 'American' on him, the helmet-donning man can't help but follow the man. He mumbled angrily to himself as he stomped towards a chair, sat heavily, fiddled with his helmet and crossed his arms.

"_I swear, he acts like a kid sometimes…"_

Engineer turned his attention to the two men. "Is what the Medic said true, Scout?"

Before the Medic could respond, the Scout cut him off. "All I said vas absolutely true, herr Engineer! Now, let him off me!"

Medic let go off the Scout and did not say another word. He slightly felt relieved, for he now knew how to let the stupid boy act more mature. He just needed a little 'encouragement'…

He needed an audience.

"Fine doc, I'll let this slip", he said as he proceeded to where the real Scout normally sat; next to the Pyro. He/she/it waited for his seatmate to stare like he normally does, but all the 'Scout' did was sit with a perfect posture and patiently waited for breakfast.

The Scout however, unconsciously stuck his tongue out to the Medic. This wasn't seen by him though, but another pair of eyes was watching from behind…

"_So he sticks out his tongue… tsk tsk, very un-Medic like."_

"GOOD MORNING LEETLE MEN!"

Heavy trotted out like a healthy bear, and he was still wearing his pajamas. "I smell good food, da?"

The Texan sat beside 'Medic', and Heavy sat on the chair to the other side of the 'Medic'. "I presume you had a good sleep eh, Heavy?"

"DA! I SLEPT WELL!" He pumped his fists on his hairy chest, indicating how good his sleep was.

"Who in the hell is cooking anyway?! I'M STARVING OVER HERE!" cried Soldier, still with arms crossed. The Engineer can't help but wonder too.

"Whose turn is it today?"

"Shnrrhprr!" shouted the Pyro. He memorized their cooking schedule like it was the alphabet, and was usually the one who reminds the mercenaries whose turn is it to cook. "Shnrrhprr crrhks evrry sherchrnd rhnd furrth shrrturrdrhy!"

"Speaking of the devil, here he comes!" said Scout, with a Bostonian accent. "Hey, I thought he was… vas zhe vone cooking? Wai – vait, is zhat zhe Demoman he's dragging along?"

All mercenaries turned to them, which made Spy very uncomfortable. "And wot ah you people lookin' at?"

"What happened to Demoman?" asked Heavy.

"The wanker got drunk and slept on mah doorstep, that's wot happened!"

Engineer studied him carefully. _"Damn, if this is Spy, he sure knows how to copy Stretch!"_

Demoman was awkwardly positioned next to Spy who was having a hard time trying to make him stand. The Scotsman's left arm was around Spy's shoulders and his weight was all directed to the poor man.

"Arghaaaurra me oh fee foh…" mumbled Demo. "Argh don't understand! Yah ALWAYS leh me intah yar rooooom, yah bloody scoundrel!"

"Someone help me or I swear I'm going to kill this man!" complained the Spy. The Texan noted this, because being one of Sniper's best buds, he knew that the real Australian man would never threat to kill anyone… unless it's the enemy, or the Spy or the Soldier.

Pyro was the one who reacted fast. "YRSH!"

He quickly let Demo's right arm rest on his shoulders, and together with the Spy they were able to slump him on his chair. "Why don't yah eat less, Cyclops… you've gotten too heavy!"

The Demoman shot him a horrified look. "Nooh I HAVE NOT! Yah nevah say these words tah me mate, YOU'VE CHANGED like a sissy girl at some clothes store what notenyahre… paaaain traaaaain station…"

His head banged on the table, and he dozed off like nothing happened.

"Well, that didn't go too well", commented the Engineer.

Spy adjusted his hat and sat on his chair the way Sniper would. "Sorry 'bout that mate, I'm just not used to havin' some drunkard splattered on the floor next tah my door."

"Ah…", said Engineer, but he knew the truth, at least most of them do. _"Demoman and Sniper usually hang out and drink together in each other's rooms…"_

Both Heavy and Pyro seemed to have heard Engineer's thoughts, for they showed clearly that they were a bit puzzled. The arsonist tilted his head like a cat while the Russian's jaw hung open and his eyes showed that he was trying to recall something.

"Heavy, close your mouth; you'll catch flies", said Medic calmly. He didn't look at the man; he just stared at the table, which was how the Medic usually talks to people during breakfast.

Heavy raised a brow as he looked at the 'Scout'. There was something in his tone that made Heavy felt like he had to follow his strict order. "Oh… Okay leetle Scout."

"WHERE IS BREAKFAAAAAAST?!" cried Solly. "I'M STARVING LIKE A HORSE AND I'M SO HUNGRY I COULD EAT A HORSE!"

"That's cannibalism!" cried the Scout. He wore a horror-struck face, which made most of the people in the room (except Demoman) wear the same look 'cause they never saw Medic act like that. Spy and Medic gently rubbed their foreheads.

"_Dummkopf… vhen vill zhis boy ever learn?"_

"_What an idiot!"_

Solly discarded what just happened and continued to rant about how hungry he was. "I do NOT care if it's cannibalism, Nazi, I just want to point out that I'M SO FAMISHED!"

"Hrrserhs urh herrbervrrhs… therrh crrhnurt brrh crrhnerbrrlssh…", Pyro wondered aloud.

"ARE YOU SAYING THAT A HORSE CAN'T EAT A FELLOW HORSE?! Well, it may be true but have you seen a REAL AMERICAN HORSE, MUMBLES?!" He stood on his chair, much to Engineer and Medic's dismay, and dramatically placed one foot on the table. "Them stallions are fuelled with pure American spirit, which keeps them running thousands of miles an hour! You say some horses are herbivores? BAH! These magnificently terrifying creatures are MEATIVORES! They'll eat any kind of meat; you can actually call them porkivores, chickenivores, deerivores, fishivores, even HUMANIVORES!"

He skedaddled towards where the Pyro was seated, and look at him face to face. "Yah got anything to say to that, Smokey Joe?"

Pyro nearly answered him "those animals don't exist", but it knew that it would just add to the troubles of the others… Oh boy, this was going to be a tough conversation to end. And therefore, he decided to change the subject. "Whrrh's curhkrhng brruhkfursht?"

"DO NOT CHANGE THE SUBJECT SMOKEY JOE – yeah who's cooking breakfast? The camper's here, so it can't be him!" The man jumped to his seat, grabbed a mug and poured tough American coffee into it. Solly added a few sugar cubes, then gulped some of it down to his noisy stomach.

Spy's eyes shot up. _"He's the only one who's missing in this table… merd__é__, if that man is in that kitchen making breakfast then I swear I'm going to - "_

"Breakfast is served, yah wankers!"

Heads whirled towards their kitchen door and jaws dropped when they saw their "barely-present-during-breakfast" comrade wearing a frilly pink apron and a smirk on his face.

Solly's coffee shot out through both his nose and mouth, spraying it all to the Demoman. He instantly woke up due to the hot coffee, but before he could react to what Solly did, his eyes landed on the frilly pink apron. His jaw dropped as well.

Sniper enjoyed all the attention he was getting. "Whot's wrong?"

"What's wrong?... WHAT'S WRONG?! Well I'll tell you what's wrong!" Soldier strutted towards the 'Spy' who was carrying their breakfast on a platter. He stood in front of the Sniper and closely inspected him from toe to head, not minding his own face splattered with coffee. "You… YOU ARE NOT SMOKING, YAH CROUTON! I'M HAPPY YOU LET GO OF THAT UNHEALTHY HABIT!" He then patted Sniper in the back in a gentle manner… oh who am I kidding, Soldier nearly slapped the life out of Sniper when he slapped him on the back. Good thing the Aussie was good at balance, and he didn't spill their breakfast.

Heavy was not exactly satisfied with the American's comment. "You cook breakfast, Spy? You never cook breakfast before…"

Sniper was waiting for this moment. "I've changed, my beloved teammates! From now on, I will not be the usual asshole I used to be!" he exclaimed, his tone dipped with a strange Aussie accent.

The Scout was having a hard time containing his laughter and he was becoming as red as a tomato as time passed, while the Medic ACTUALLY showed his teeth when he smiled a real smile. Both of them knew the truth, and they were quite amused as to how Sniper reacted to this opportunity.

The Spy however, was pulling his hair off and screaming internally. But of course, he showed no external emotion.

"And here's breakfast… tadah!"

The people around the table stood up to take a good look at the food, except for Solly, who was busy trying to wipe the coffee off his face using his sleeves. None of them were familiar with it. In the centre of the platter was an extremely large chunk of meat surrounded by… caterpillar-looking things.

"Um… may I ask you politely Spy… is this French food?" questioned the Medic. He eyed the food as if it were a dead body he could play with.

Scout's eyes widened. "Are those weird stuff… worms?!"

"Well, yep… their Witchetty grubs. Actually I put them to the side for the sake of decoration, buuuuut you guys can eat it, it's edible."

"And what makes yah think I would do that, yah backstabber? I cannae eat the stuff! It's too… too…"

"Yah haven't tasted it yet, Cyclops. Once you taste it, I assure yah it would be one of the best things you've ever tasted. It'll be like eating a rainbow."

Spy's right eye started to twitch.

Heavy inspected it again. "What is meat in middle?"

"Oh that? That's horse meat."

Soldier nearly fell off his chair when he heard this. He shot up and his helmet flew off his head. "DID YOU SAY HORSE MEAT?!"

Pyro rolled his/her/its eyes. "Erht bertrrh nurt brrh Amrrhicern…"

"Yes, why do you ask - "

The Soldier noisily dragged his chair to the table and sat on it. "Then let me have it! It's been years since I've tasted horse meat!"

"You've tasted horse meat?" asked the skeptical Engie.

"No, but if I said I didn't it would make me sound less like a MAN!" He grabbed a fork and a knife, then started cutting the meat while chuckling darkly.

Sometimes… no… actually most of the time, the words coming from Solly are quite nonsensical.

"Just eat my dear ones; I still have a lot of food for you in the kitch – ooof!"

The Spy choked Sniper with both of his hands while pushing him towards the kitchen's open door. Once both of them were inside, the Frenchman locked the door.

Demoman's eyes squinted at the pair. "Whah in the world just happened to the – HEY! WHERE'S THE BLOODY HORSE MEAT?!"

Everyone turned to look at Solly's plate, which was starting to crack due to the weight of the meat and the force he was applying to cut it.

He raised his head in a way that would make his teammates look at him eye to eye.

"**I DO NOT EAT MAGGOTS."**

* * *

"What was that, you filthy Bushman! Did you know what you just did?!"

Sniper leaned coolly at their kitchen counter, and shrugged. "I'm actually doing you a favour Spook. I think it's quite clear to yah that you're not liked around the area…"

Spy closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "What are you implying?"

"I'm going to change your personality, that way; the people 'round here would start lovin' yah! Wouldn't yah like that, Spook? Everyone's so cold with you, I might as well warm up to them roight now that I have the golden opportunity - "

Spy started choking him again, but the Sniper never removed that wicked grin on his face and tears started to fall from his eyes.

"I do not want to be loved by a bunch of eediots! And you made me wear a pink… frilly apron?! What is wrong with you?!" He let go of the Sniper who gasped for air yet he laughed anyway.

"Cough… I just thought you wanted me to show off your true colours, mate – erk!"

The Frenchman choked him again, only this time with a much greater force. "YOU CRAZY KANGAROO BASTARD! I 'AVE A REPUTATION AND I AM NOT THROUGH WITH YOU!"

He let go once more, and let the man crumple on the round.

"Maybe you are forgetting that TWO can play at this game…", said the Spy. A playful glint sparked from his eyes.

The Aussie stopped laughing and looked at him in disbelief. "You wouldn't…"

He snickered slightly and gave him a reassuring smile. "Of course I would." He reached out a hand to the man, but Sniper refused his help and let himself stand up.

"You bloody Spook… alright, alright, I'm sorry I had to do all that… I was just doing yah a favour, mate!" Sniper couldn't help but laugh inwardly; he still hasn't gotten over the fact that the Spy was wearing a frilly apron.

"Non, apology not accepted! I would have to do something to… even out the damage done…"

Sniper couldn't help but cross his arms stubbornly and give him a big frown. It was his fault anyway, he started it…

But it didn't mean that the Spook would be the one to end it. "We'll see about that, crouton!"

"You can be really immature at times, _mon ami_…"

"Says the guy who wears a mask like it's Halloween oll year round." Spy sighed angrily and smacked his own hand on his face.

Sniper was definitely enjoying every moment of torturing the ever-stoic member of their group. It was just now that he realized; their little switch was a big problem but it can be a fun experience after all.

Suddenly, someone rapped the kitchen door loudly.

_RAP RAP RAP! _

"MFFGHHOTS!"

At first, they thought it was Pyro calling the pair, but when they opened the door, they did not expect to see horror behind it…

The rocket-man stared at them with eyes as wide as saucers and red like blood. He grabbed the Sniper's collar and shook him violently. Worms filled his mouth, and some dangled around as he spoke. "GHFFF ME MORF MFFGHHOTS!"

"Woah there, piker! What on earth? HOLY DOOLY!"

The two saw what happened around the table.

Engineer was helplessly trying to pull the Scout off the table, because he was eating the exotic worms like a rabid dog. This did nothing to cheer the Medic up, but nevertheless, he had to act like Scout. So he too climbed on the table and ate the worms with a complete set of utensils. He squatted on the furniture calmly, with great posture and ate the maggots like a sir. The Demo was under the same situation as Solly and Scout; he was crazy for the worms. "These wee creatures' taste explodes in yer mouth like KABLOOEY!" Heavy peacefully ate the remaining horse meat like it was a sandvich, and Pyro was nowhere to be found.

Soldier looked back at the table. "DFFN'T ERRHT ERLL MAH MFFGHHOTS!" He ran back and dived on the table as if it were a swimming pool. This did not end well though, for he slid through, bringing with him the maggots and an unsuspecting Demoman.

_CRASH!_

Spy and Sniper were too stunned to move.

"_PUTAIN_! What did you do with the _vers_?! They look like they are 'igh!" He turned to the scene at the table. "'Ave you filled them with drugs?!"

Sniper wore a genuine spooked look. "I… I have no idea mate…"

"Woah there, Doc! There are a lot of worms on the earth, so don't go actin' like this is the last of 'em!" cried the Engineer. _"Damn… Sometimes I find it hard to believe that we are being called a bunch of ruthless, savage, brutal and cold-blooded bunch of mercenaries…" _

If the day started like this, it would probably get worse later…

* * *

Yay! Another finished chapter!

This is starting to get really enjoyable for me, mwahahaha! And there's a surprise switch in the future, so stay tuned! Please review... or fave... or follow...

I get the inspiration to move on whenever i read reviews ;D

Love ya all, see you next week.

Next up: Medic's monthly check-up is scheduled that day... how would scout handle it?


	7. Crying over spilled Water

THANK YOU SO MUCH TO ALL WHO REVIEWED, FAVED, AND FOLLOWED. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE AND LET ME TELL YOU GUYS THAT YOU'RE ALL AMAZING.

Next chappie's a bit short compared to the previous one but...

I hope it's okay D:

So, here we go!

* * *

"So dis is what it feels like… holdin' dem prickly things!"

The Scout mingled around with Medic's toys in the medical bay like a kid. He kept on studying each of the neon colored liquids in different vials, and shook them around expecting something to happen.

Of course, he had no idea of how most of the doctor's equipment worked.

"Hmmm…", Scout thought to himself as if he were a professional doctor. He picked up a vial with eerie green liquid in it. "I bet dis goo is for curin' cancer! Da color says it all."

He put it down on the shelf carefully, and took a good look around the bay…

It had all happened here in this very room. If only he wasn't bitten by that freakishly large snake then none of this would've happened.

Bits and pieces of Medic's machine were still scattered around, and the wires still sparking with electricity. Fooling around in this place was dangerous; anything could happen if you get near some of the unstable cables.

"Daaaamn… looks like I'd be da one in clean up duty…", Scout thought to himself. He leaned against the hospital bed and looked up at the ceiling. The boy smirked and discarded the thought quickly, and he knocked on his own head. "Ohohohoho what were you thinking yah knucklehead? Me? On cleaning duty? HAH! What a joke! It was da real Medic who started dis, plus, dis is his room. He should be da one sweepin' off all dis stuff."

He started kicking the metal off the floor, and dust flew whenever his shoes brushed against the cement.

Suddenly, a telephone's ring filled the room with noise. This startled him for a second.

_RIIIIIING! RIIIIIING! RIIIIIING!_

"Da hell is dat from?"

The phone was nowhere to be found. He poked around the bay, in search of the source of the sound. "Where did dat faggot hide da frickin' phone? Why didn't he just put it somewhere I could find it da way I could find dat fat guy runnin' arou – OOF!"

The Bostonian tripped on another large chunk of metal which looked like the main part of the machine that the doctor was working on. He scrambled to get up, and forcefully kicked it the way he does when he's getting revenge on someone. "Damn dis mess!"

_RIIIIIING! RIIIIIING! RIIIIIING!_

"Okay okay I'm comin', I'm comin'!"

The search ended when he finally found the phone under some papers. He grabbed hold of it, and spoke without thinking.

"Hello? Who da fuck is dis? Do yah have any idea of da frickin' effort I had to give for da sake dat I could answer dis doggone call?

"Doctor?"

Uh-oh. It was Ms Pauling. He quickly changed his tone and stood on a formally good posture.

"Uh, yes Herr… Miss Pauling? Vhat can I do for you?"

The other line was silent for around 5 seconds. Sweat started to form on Scout's face, for he knew that Miss Pauling HAD to be the second-to the-last among the people around here to figure out about their switch.

The last person would be the Administrator. That witch would probably figure out soon though.

"Uh, Doc? Are you still there?"

"Yes, yes! Why… Vhy did you call?"

"I just wanted to remind you that today's the schedule for the monthly check-up. My boss says that she wants the report on this around 5 o'clock in the afternoon. Is that okay?"

Scout stared at the wall opposite to him, feeling like he'd been hit by a meteor.

Monthly check-up? Oh yeah… the doc regularly checks their health every two months to see if they're still as fit as a feather to fight for Mann Co. If he remembered correctly, his last check-up with the doc was around 2 months ago…

Oh damn.

"Doctor?"

No response.

"Hellooooo? Medic? Are you still with me?"

"Huh… oh, yeah! Sure thing Missy, I'll get zhose reports done by 5 o'clock."

The woman wasn't sure if she could trust the 'German' on the other line. "Are you feeling alright Doctor? Maybe you need the check-up…"

"NONONONO I'm perfectly fine! I'll have to hang up now, bye!"

_Click._

Scout covered his face with his gloved hands. "OOOH DAMN! What da hell do I do now?"

_KNOCK KNOCK!_

The boy looked up quickly and turned towards the door. A muffled voice came from the other side. "Doc, are you in there? May I come in?"

"Yes, yes. Please do!" said the Scout. He had to try his best in sounding like the doctor he is.

The doors flew open and in came the Engineer, with a worried look on his face.

"_Let's see if he really IS the Medic…",_ he thought. "Hey Doc, I've been feeling uneasy lately…"

Scout leaned on the Medical bed, closed his eyes and stroked his chin with one hand. He needed to look smart in front of Engie. "Yes, yes… go on."

The Engineer was amused at his reaction, but he continued his little act. "Every now and then I've been feeling them abdominal cramps and pains… plus, whenever I dislodge my wastes it seems that the stool comes out a bit too watery than normal. And this happens very often."

The 'doctor' pretended to be extremely interested in his condition, when he actually has not gotten over the fact that he had a report to submit later on. "Is that it, Herr Engineer?"

The Texan was getting excited, yet he was good at covering this emotion. If ever this man, whoever he is, correctly diagnoses him, then it could be considered that he was really the Medic.

But if he didn't, then… this old German doctor was hiding a young, energetic soul inside his body. Engineer has really thought this over; for he knew that the kid could not differentiate a heart attack from a common cold.

"Well… I feel dizzy most of the times… and I think it's because I'm getting dehydrated… What do yah think, doc? What is this illness?"

The answer was already floating in Engineer's mind. He had just mentioned most of the symptoms of diarrhea.

The Scout, however, had a whole other disease in mind.

"Ah yes, yes… Abdominal cramps, dizziness, gooey poop… I'm thinking you have a very serious disease, Herr Engineer."

"And what is that?"

Scout walked towards the short Texan and placed his arm around Engie's shoulder.

"_Medic never does this…"_ thought the Engineer.

"I'm afraid you have a very serious case of congenital breast cancer of the lungs."

Engineer raised an eyebrow. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Excuse me?"

"You are diagnosed with congenital breast cancer of the lungs."

"You're sayin' that I have breast cancer?"

Scout nodded seriously. "Yes."

"Breast cancer_ of the lungs_?"

"Indeed. Dem germs seeped from your breasts and into dem lungs, which is fairly close to the heart, and could kill you by invading your heart as well. That's why it's called '_congenital'_ breast cancer of the lungs, dummkoof", insisted the Scout, like it was the most obvious fact. "But do not worry, I have exactly what you need hardhat…"

The man jogged to one of Medic's cabinets, thinking that he could finally toy around with his stuff and play doctor.

Only the Scout could come up with such a disease.

Engineer shook his head, for he knew the real meaning of the word 'congenital'. He also knew how Scout lacked a bit of knowledge in vocabulary. He looked at the man the way a person does when looking after kids playing with dangerous things.

"_Tsk, he even called me hardhat… Medic never called me that", _thought the Texan. He sat on one of the chairs and took a good look around the room. _"Dang, this place is still a mess. I wonder what happened here."_

"You still have not told me about the events that happened here Doc. Why does this place look like a junk shop?"

The lad refused to answer the question and quickly changed the subject. "Aha! I found it!"

He jogged towards Engie and showed him a syringe with a faint green liquid inside its barrel. "If I inject dis goo into your boobies, den da cancer would disappear in an instant!"

Behind the goggles, Engineer's eyes showed a considerable amount of fear. He had not expected this.

"A-are yah sure Doc?" Boy, he needed a way out. He has already proven his hypothesis, and there was nothing more to do here. "I mean, that doesn't look quite safe to me…"

"Sure, I'm sure, I'm da Medic! Trust me!"

Scout gave him a comforting smile which did nothing to comfort the Texan at all. He rose from his chair and slowly backed away from the 'doctor'. "Uh, my stomach's playing games on me again, doc… I'll need to go to the lavatory, if you don't mind…"

He said it with a pinch of suffering, and made himself look like he was fighting the urge to poop. Engineer clutched his stomach and headed for the door.

"Hmm… okay, you could go for now… but you'll be back right?"

"In a jiffy!"

The Engineer went past the doors and ran to find the real Medic, without any intent of going back to the Medical bay ever again.

* * *

Ugh. Their breakfast today gave him a total headache. Sniper didn't expect that it would take a long time to calm both the Soldier and he Demoman under the effect of those grubs.

Tsk. He would NEVER EVER cook worms again.

The Sniper dragged himself toward's Spy's room and sat on his bed. Since their team lost yesterday, Solly had given them a good amount of spanking and scolding and consumed a huge amount of time. By the time he was finished, their clock read 11:37 pm and everyone was too tired to eat dinner or wash up before going to bed.

So Sniper thought, why not bathe now?

He locked the door and started to remove the Frenchman's suit off his body. He didn't take off the mask though, for he actually forgot its presence.

Plus, he was in a hurry to wash up.

Sniper wore Spy's towel around his waist and dawdled all the way to the shower stalls.

Their lavatory had a sink and a mirror right in front of it, which was really hard to miss. The Sniper wanted to wash his face here before heading to the stall. He twisted the knob of the faucet, yet no water came out.

"Bloody hell, there's no woter!"

His head throbbed once again, and this made him groan a bit too loudly. The Aussie rubbed his eyes in a wild fashion.

These water shortages are becoming frequent around here.

"No woter, a bloody headache… whot would follow next? A hurricane in the middle of this flaming desert?!"

He rubbed his temples and opened his eyes.

That's when he noticed that he hasn't taken off the mask yet.

Sniper forced a smile despite the torture he was feeling. "Well well well, looks loike I could finally take a damn look under this helluva mask."

The Australian poked around to see if anyone (specifically the Spy) was anywhere near, but silence filled this portion of their humble abode indicating that everyone else has gone off to somewhere.

This was his bloody chance.

Both of his hands reached to pull the balaclava off his head. Sniper did this slowly and with ease, while shutting his eyes. His heart beat weirdly… maybe he was nervous to see who the Frenchman was behind his covering, or maybe excited. Either way, he was going to end his curiosities once and for all. Once he felt that the mask was off, he placed it on the sink and felt his face.

Dang, it was sweaty. How did the Spook get used to this?

His eyes were still closed as he felt his whole head. Oooh, the Spook has hair! All this time Snipes thought he was some bald Frenchie.

Finally, Sniper decided that it was time to look at his reflection on the mirror in front of him.

He opened his eyes.

"…Crikey."

The first thing that caught the Aussie's attention was the hawk-like nose the Spy possessed. It wasn't that obvious with his mask around, but now that he's removed it… it has become the most prominent feature on his face. His eye bags were sagging under his eyes, and this was probably due to the stress he was feeling. As Sniper rubbed his chin, he felt the familiar thin surface of stubble. His skin was a bit rough, probably due to aging. Black hair was present though, and was slicked back messily.

Sniper didn't have much to say.

"Blimey, I knew that Spook looked too… too… French-loike…"

He continued to squint at the mirror, trying to get a good look from all the angles of his head, yet little did he know that the mumbling devil was watching from behind. The Pyro was carrying a bowl of cereals with him, but when he caught sight of the mask-less Spy, it suddenly let go of the bowl and stared at him.

The Aussie heard this, and the thought that he was indeed mask-less left his brain. He turned to the stunned Pyro, like everything was normal.

"Oh, hi there yah little bug…" When Sniper heard his French-y voice, he trailed off. _"Bloody hell, the l'il devil can see the Spook's face!" _

Pyro tilted his head. "Shphhm? Issh thssht yurr?"

He wasn't able to respond, for he didn't know how to. Was he supposed to hide? Was he going to take this coolly? How would Spy react if he were in his situation right now?

"Yurr nhvmmphrr tffk urhff yurrr mshk buhhfr…"

Damn this. If Spy were here, he would surely throw a fit. That Frenchman never wanted his face seen by anyone at ALL.

The Sniper tried his best to imitate Spy's tone. "Actually Pyro, you are the first among these eediots to see my face. Now you could forget about it and move on with your life."

"Burrht - "

"No, seriously forget about it. And never mention this to anyone. Understand?"

Pyro nodded, but it surely cannot forget the face behind Spy's mask. It calmly picked up its fallen cereal bowl and looked helplessly at the milk that spilled all over the floor. He was about to clean that stuff up, but was delayed when he heard a blood-curling scream from behind.

"MERDÉ!"

* * *

"Why is it that whenever I plan to 'ave a bath, the water supply plans to RUN OUT AS WELL?!"

Spy was not having the time of his life. To get water, he had to run towards the main water supply which was located far from their base, and dragging the pail under the hot sun was not one of Spy's favourite things to do.

He finally reached the front door, and he opened it with too much force.

BANG!

"Woah, you might actually break down the door, laddie!" cried Demoman who was seated on their sofa. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed the pail. "Hmm… the water's out?"

"What do you think?!"

Spy shot him a look of annoyance, and continued to drag the pail in an awkward way which made water spill from it.

Demo sobbed. "What is wrong with yeh mate? YOU'VE CHANGED! I was just bloody wondering about the water! Don't yeh shout at me like that!"

The Frenchman rolled his eyes and decided to let go of Demo's rant. It was impossible to let him stop once he's started. "You're just drunk, Cyclops. You'll get over it soon!"

He clumsily made his way to the lavatory, but felt like it would take him time if he just dragged the pail along. So, he decided to carry it with his arms.

"Ooof, putain! Fucking, 'eavy pail…"

Slowly yet carefully he swaggered to the comfort rooms.

After what seemed like an eternity for him, the Spy finally reached the lavatory. He saw the Pyro pick up something from the ground, but he didn't care much about it because the important thing was that he had made it to the shower stalls with more than one-half of the water that his pail could carry.

When he was close enough, the Frenchman did not expect to come face to face with his own face… without the balaclava.

"MERDÉ!"

Both the Pyro and the Sniper jumped a bit due to surprise, but the Spy had other things in mind. He rushed towards the lavatory with eyes fuming and without thinking, covered Sniper's head with the pail he was carrying.

WOOOSH!

Down went Spy's hard effort of carrying water.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

"Wurrh, thurrht eshcurlurtuhd quhckry!" Pyro sensed something bad was going to stir up, so it skedaddled away without cleaning his milky mess.

The Sniper was dripping wet now, and some portions of Spy's clothes got soaked.

"Whot is wrong with me? WHOT'S WRONG WITH ME?! You're the smart-ass who threw a bucket all over mah face and now you're asking whot's wrong with me?" asked the Sniper. His voice echoed due to the pail around his head, and this contributed much to his worsening headache.

"I'M NOT BLABBING ABOUT THE BUCKET, BUSHMAN!" Spy lowered his voice, and whispered to the pail in an angry yet hushed tone. "Why on earth did you remove the mask?!"

"Well, I was going to take a bath… can you take this pail off of mah head? The echoes are killing me."

"Non, you will stay like that until you wear the balaclava!"

"Alright, alright… bloody Spook."

Sniper waved his arms around the sink area, hoping to find the mask. "What's the problem anyway? There's nothing wrong with your looks!"

"Do you not know why I am called the Spy?! My identity is supposed to stay 'idden! Who else 'as seen my face?!"

"Uh… just me, Spook."

"What about the Pyro?"

Sniper felt the mask under his hands. "Oh, Mumbles? He promised he won't say a word. He's not much of a problem, really."

The Frenchman let go of the pail and raised both his arms in frustration. "Merdé, I was right. You could never be a good Spy at all, Bushman."

"And whot makes you say that?" The Aussie removed the pail from his face and breathed in air. "I've killed men with your butterfly knife, Spook. And I'm quite familiar now with most of your tools."

Spy looked at him with irritated eyes. This did not make the Sniper comfortable.

The Frenchman poked Sniper in the chest with force. "Never… EVER… take off that mask in public. Only do so when you're alone. Now that you 'ave seen my face, it would only be right that I kill you and the Pyro once this dilemma is over with!"

Sniper rolled his eyes. "Don't overreact Spook, it's not good for your lungs."

Spy threw his arms once more, and leaned on the sink with arms crossed. "Now look at what you've done. The water I worked so 'ard for is now wasted." He picked up the pail and shoved it into the Sniper's stomach.

"OOF!"

"Get me water."

"Crikey, now why would I do that?!"

"Because you are the reason why I wasted mine."

"No, YOU are the reason YOU spilled YOUR own woter! There's no use crying over it now!"

Spy gave him an ever-serious look. "I believe the saying was, 'it's no use crying over spilled _milk_'."

The Aussie leaned on the sink's counter as well. "You can talk about spilled milk with the Pyro. But now YOU have tah get YOUR own water."

Sniper shoved the pail into Spy's stomach, but missed badly that it hit his crotch.

"OOF!"

Shoot. Sniper realized that he just harmed his private place, two times already.

"_Putain_! I swear you'll be fucking impotent when we get back to our bodies!" That sentence made the Sniper stiff as a rock, but nothing was more painful than what the Spy was experiencing now.

"Argh, now I am totally incapable. You get the water…" said Spy with a struggled voice. He took this opportunity to get back at that kangaroo.

"Fine, FINE! Bloody wanker…"

Sniper snatched the bucket and stormed off.

Once he was out of Spy's sight, the Frenchman stood up with ease and dusted his clothes. He twisted the faucet's knob and was a bit surprised when he felt the water that splashed all over the sink. "Ah, finally the water is back."

He quickly grabbed his towel and took a long, refreshing bath.

* * *

"Hm… maybe I could use the intehcom to get der attention…"

Scout searched the whole bay for it, and after a few minutes, he was able to get his hands on the gadget.

"What do I say though…" thought Scout. "Maybe, 'Good morning people! Dis is da Medic and I require yah all to come by da bay'! Or maybe, 'Wazzup people! I need your frickin' bodies to get checked-up!"

He replayed his speech in his mind. "Damn, dat does not sound like da Medic at all!" He sat down heavily and posed like the thinker. Finally, his face beamed and he grabbed hold of the intercom.

Scout cleared his throat once more before he spoke.

* * *

"143… 144… 145… 146…"

"Good morning dummkoops. I need your presence here inside zhe medical bay for zhe monthly check-up… I have to pass zhe reports around 5 o'clock today so DON'T BE FRICKIN' LATE!"

Soldier stopped his push-ups and sat down like a contented puppy. "146! That's a new record, mwahahahahaha!"

The American picked up his towel and wiped the sweat falling from his face. "Heh, I'd better jog by the Medic today and tell him about this new push-up record! I'll be able to prove then that I'm as healthy as a horse!..."

The Pyro went by him and pointed towards the bay. "Urhh yrrh gurrwhng?"

"YEP! A SOLDIER IS NEVER LATE!" He grabbed his trusty shovel and jogged away from Pyro.

"Alrrhht, I'hl fhurllhr afhhtr…" he mumbled to the dust left by the American.

If only Solly knew what was waiting for him in the medical bay, then he would've been spared from whatever could happen next…

* * *

Spy was extremely contented. He was currently in Sniper's room, grooming himself.

After the bath, he carefully wiped every inch of his body before putting on Sniper's casual clothes. He was extremely meticulous about things, especially if these things were not his.

Spy waved the clothes around, just to make sure that there were no dust particles on what he would be wearing. Once satisfied, he put them on slowly... for he wasn't familiar with Sniper's apparel. Finally he was done... he just lacked Sniper's signature hat.

Before wearing it, Spy combed his hair the way stylists do, and made sure that it looked neat and tidy.

He put on the headgear and tilted it a bit.

There was a sudden knock on the door.

_KNOCK KNOCK!_

"Comin', mate!"

Spy opened the door and saw Sniper on the other side, still wearing a towel and clutching a bucket three fourth's full of water.

The bucket didn't stay in Sniper's arms for long though. The next thing Spy knew was that he's head was covered by a pail...

...and he was damn wet.

"I got yah your woter Spook", said the Aussie, with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "You're welcome."

* * *

A-okay, I'm done for the day :D.

Solly's going to be in a heap of trouble later on ;D. If you guys want to know how i picture Spy, here's the link to the image... just remove all the spaces: lin tufriik /post /105738 76190/casual ly-tries-to-dra w-a-spy-wi thout-his -mask-for

Special thanks to the person who drew this :D

So, that's all folks, see you all next week... i guess...

Up next: Solly is diagnosed with a disease by the Scout... how will he react and what is the cure?


	8. Medic loves Baseball

GUYS SORRY IF THE UPDATE TOOK A LONG TIME... It was because Merasmus was dang hard to beat -_-"

Anyway, i thank all those who reviewed, faved and followed... you guys make me move on! I LOVE YOU!

And thanks to all who are silently reading my story XD

Anyway, here's the chappie!

* * *

"Zhis is just plain ridiculous."

No other word can better describe the Medic's state.

Walking under the hot sun was ridiculous. Who in the world wanted to walk under the sun around ten thirty in the morning? Sure, Scout's black cap kept the rays from burning his eyes, but the sweat and the sun's heat slapping him all over his skin was a different matter.

He was a dignified, honourable, organized and proud Medic. He does not deserve this kind of treatment at all.

The only problem is… that he WAS the dignified, honourable, organized and proud Medic. Whatever he was in the past did not affect his current situation.

And that is why he is taking out the trash at this very moment.

The stinky odour seeped out from the bags, and diffused in such a fast rate that even while skipping along, the scent was able to catch up to him.

He could practically SEE the scent surrounding him and the garbage bags.

"You're zhe Scout; you're zhe fastest and youngest among us zoh you get zhe honor of taking out zhe filthy garbage", said the Doctor, trying his best to sarcastically mimic Soldier's order. "Well sorry _greis_, but I'm not zhe bubbly Scout zhat_ I_ used to be…"

The Medic stomped all the way to the far garbage bin in the middle of nowhere and started ranting again.

"… and zhat is because I am ZHE MEDIC, YOU EMPTY-HEADED DUMMKOPF!"

BASH!

At the word 'dummkopf', Medic threw the bag of garbage with full force and the little dignity that was left. He raised his chin at the bin and walked with his ever-perfect posture towards their base. The drops of sweat that trickled down his head evaporated within a few seconds of its formation, and this made him slouch with every step he took. By the time he reached his destination, the 'Scout' looked like a fried puppy, breathing rapidly with his tongue out.

"Having fun mate?"

Medic had no need to look at the person who just addressed him, for he only knew one man who had the ability to merge an Australian accent with a heavy French voice.

"Uh…"

The German doctor collapsed on a wooden bench under the shed connected to their "weekend base" (as Solly would call it).

Yes, even the toughest mercenaries need a place to live. They had a home too, of course.

The fight is different for every single weekday. It always depends on the administrator if she was in the mood for her little games. Most of the time, Mondays meant a trip to Thunder Mountain, Badwater Basin… or any map for a fight of attack and defence of the Payload. Of course, their week wouldn't be complete without a skirmish in Dustbowl or Teufort… these places were where they spend most of their time fighting. A trip to Doomsday happens at least twice a month because rocket fuel was not cheap at all. They kept on transferring to the various locations via Sniper's van. The owner of the vehicle did not like the idea at all, but the system was paying him for the gas and extra effort so, why not?

Different wars during different days… but of course, they spend their weekend and their nights in a little farmhouse, which is close to being their little humble abode…

If only the house wasn't located in the middle of a FUCKING DESERT.

"Yah don't look too good."

The Sniper bent down to take a good look at the Doc who was using his cap to fan himself. "Of course I don't look good, _schwachkopf_! Zhe heat is literally killing me!"

The former marksman frowned inwardly, and his brows met. He was having a little episode of déjà vu. _"Now where have I heard this before…"_

"Vell, you don't look too good eizah, Herr Sniper."

The Aussie dismissed his thoughts and looked down at the 'Scout', who had his wide eyes staring back at him. To him, the doctor in the boy's body was absolutely pathetic. He barely smiled and moved the way Scout does, and unlike the kid, he was too serious… and of course, he was smart.

The Sniper never pictured Scout as a 'smart' young lad. Sometimes he could be wise, but smart? Never.

"Vhat happened to your right _auge_?"

"Oh-gay?"

"Your right eye seems to look darker zhan usual."

"Oh, _that_."

His hand touched his swelling bumps around his head, and then he rubbed the area around his black eye. "You could say that the Spook and I had a little… uh, misunderstanding…"

"He socked you in zhe eye?"

"Hah, I returned his bloody punch… _twice._"

The Medic sat down and gave space for the Sniper. He patted the bench, signalling the man to sit beside him. Sniper had to obey, for even though he looked like the carefree baseball-addicted teammate of his, the man still gave off an aura of authority.

The Doctor touched the face of the Sniper and used the balaclava to pull him closer. That way, he could get a good look at the damaged eye.

"I see zhat zhere is some swelling…"

He used his fingers to pull the eyelids as far as possible.

"OUCH! What the bloody - "

"Look at me, Herr Sniper."

The Australian did as he was told to do.

"Does it hurt vhen I touch it?"

Despite the force the Medic was applying to his eye, the man managed to roll his eyes. "Whot do you think, doc?"

Medic sighed heavily and pushed Sniper's head away from him with all his might, and this made him nearly topple off the bench.

"Crikey!"

He regained his balance quickly before he fell off.

"I vould at least be a bit happy, if you appreciated zhe efforts I am doing to save your eye…"

Sniper stood up and motioned to adjust his cap, then remembered that he no longer was the owner of his favourite headwear. He merely shrugged it off and sat next to the Medic.

"Sorry 'bout that doc… it's just, well, the Spook always manages to make my day miserable and it makes me grumpy for the rest of the bloody day."

The German sat up straight and pointed at his eye. "Apply a cold compress to zhat, or maybe a pack of vegetables. Do zhis until the swelling subsides…", he stared off to the distance, but quickly returned his attention to the Sniper. "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. If ever your vision starts to get blurry, approach me immediately."

"Alright, whatever the prescription says, doc."

Silence overtook their conversation as each one started to think about the other.

What mainly ran around the Aussie's thoughts was how mature the Scout seemed to be… The way the Medic acted with his body was not giving a good effect, for he didn't like being treated by some… kid. It was lame, being told what to do by someone who used to be… younger and dumber than him.

It was a little bit pride crushing, but he had no choice but to accept it. Besides, this wasn't the real Scout he was talking to anyway.

"Vhat made him sock you on zhe face anyway?"

Sniper bobbed his head upward, indicating that he was back on earth from a trip around his thoughts. "Oh, it was about… uhm… holy dooly I forgot."

Medic smirked. "You do not remember?"

"That's what happens when you get to have an argument with a peachy French bastahd: Yah argue, fight physically, end up feeling battered all ovah and forget what you were actually quarrelling about."

"Hmm, zhat seems like the usual cycle you two are playing almost every - "

"SCOUT! SPAH!"

Both the switched mercenaries turned to the direction of the sound.

Engineer was running towards them, waving his wrench around.

"Oh, it's just Engie…", said Sniper. He almost waved back but the 'Scout' prevented him from doing so. "Remember to stay in character, mein fraülein", he said in a whispering tone. "Zhe Spy is not zhat friendly remember? He barely acknowledges zhe presence of any team member."

The Aussie got his point, and he felt a bit annoyed again. Dang, he needed to get used to the way 'Scout' was acting now. Having a boy dominate you… it's just so… ugh.

Medic ignored the Engineer and put a wide grin on his face, which made Sniper do the opposite. He started to say stuff in a loud voice, loud enough for the incoming Texan to hear. "And that, is why I LOVE baseball! I mean, swingin' da bat makes me feel like, woah, 'I'm swingin' da bat with all my frickin' might'! Of course, I run towards da ball dat I hit though; can't waste any of my awesome balls!"

Medic swayed his head energetically and waved at the Engineer. "Oh, hi der hard hat!"

* * *

Engineer ran for his life.

But it was more appropriate to say that he ran for his breasts.

There was no damn way in hell would he let the Scout inject chemicals in him, nu-huh. He had to find the real Medic, quick. If Scout was going to spend a good amount of time in there, who knows what kind of explosions or radiations he would cause to spread around their weekend base.

He entered the kitchen, and saw Heavy's butt beside the refrigerator door. The half of his body was mostly inside the fridge, and he seemed to be looking for something.

"Uh, hey big guy."

Heavy got startled and nearly wrecked the fridge by just hitting his head hard on the platform that separated the freezer from the part below. "Ow!"

He quickly hid something behind him and smiled awkwardly at the Engineer.

"Engineer! I was not eating sandwich, no. I was looking for water to drink."

The Texan half smiled when he saw a big sandwich behind the Russian man. "Alright, I trust yah, big dummy", he raised his hands and slightly bowed his head, making Heavy feel relieved that he has not found out about the sandvich yet. "But I just want to ask you, Heavy…"

The large man gulped a bit.

"_Did he see sandvich?"_

"I'm wondering where the Scout ran off to…"

"_Oh thank goodness he not see sandvich!"_

"Leetle Scout? He took trash bags with him and throw eet away. Soldier ask him to."

"Ah, alright. Thanks Heavy."

The Russian smiled back at him. "You are welcome. Heavy is credit to Engineer!"

The Texan gave him a friendly salute and strutted towards their shed outside.

Once he was far enough, Heavy took out the sandwich and proceeded to take a large bite from it.

"Oh, and Heavy…"

His eyes grew wide as he saw the Engineer smiling at him.

"… don't eat too much, you'll be too full for lunch."

He put down the sandvich and looked at it helplessly.

People saw him as a big, ruthless Russian bear, but if it was Engie who told him about 'not eating during the wrong times of the day', this bear becomes a big disappointed teddy bear that slouches and pouts at him. Engineer was kind, and he seemed to know what he was saying. Plus, he was smarter, so he knows what was good for Heavy.

"Okay", he simply said while making weighty footsteps towards the refrigerator.

"You can have it for lunch later on."

With that, the Engineer ran to the back of the house. They had a creaky back door which needed much pushing force to get it open. After a little struggle with the screen door, he was able to step onto the hot ground.

"What in tarnation! It feels like an oven around here!"

Engie jogged towards their wooden shed, and sure enough, he found the 'Scout' chatting with the 'Spy'.

"Wait a doggone second… Scout chatting with the Spah?"

This was unusual. He had to approach them stealthily so that he could get a good peek at what they are talking about. But no, the Engineer is a mighty polite fella… he couldn't afford to eavesdrop on them.

So he decided to greet them instead.

"SCOUT! SPAH!"

He waved his Wrench around, a form of greeting his comrades. He caught the 'Spy' wanting to greet him back, but was stopped by the 'Scout'.

"I see…", murmured the Engineer to himself. He jogged faster now, with a slight mourning at the hot sun. The more steps he took, the more was his yearning for cool shade.

By the time he was less than a meter away, he heard the 'Scout' yak about baseball.

"…can't waste any of my awesome balls!.. Oh, hi der hard hat!"

The Engineer patted the young lad on the back and sat heavily next to the Bostonian. "Whooooeeee! Aren't yah fellas feeling a bit… toasty? What're you doing out here anyway?" He pulled his shirt back and forth, wanting some air to cool his sweaty body.

"Well, that frickin' dummkopf asked me to take out the trash, and once I finished doing so, the Spy and I talked about baseball."

Medic nudged at Sniper. "Huh.. oh, what 'e says is true… uh, labourer."

The Texan raised an eyebrow. "Really? I had no idea that you had a liking to the sport, Turncoat. Are you a big fan of baseball?"

The Sniper didn't know what to say. Well, personally he didn't care much about the said sport… what more the Spook? That guy would probably rather be shipped back to France in a box than go and spend some time in a baseball stadium.

So, he had to say no.

"Of course he likes baseball, don't yah, shapeshifter?"

Oh boy. Why did he have to become the Spy?

"I do not, _mon ami_. Baseball is too… complicated for me."

Ew. The Sniper needed more work with his 'French' accent.

Medic didn't complain internally. He knew how the Spy would have reacted, and Sniper was starting to learn the Frenchman's actions quickly. The Engineer would never suspect them at all.

That was not true, though.

"Aw man! I thought you liked that awesome sport! Didn't you say that it gave yah goosebumps whenevah your favourite team would make a slam dunk? Tsk, tsk… and I thought we were on da same frickin' side, Spook."

The Medic looked at Sniper but did not expect to see him give weird looks. It was as if the Aussie was mentally trying to convey to him a message, but his brain waves were not absorbed by the clueless German.

It was the Engineer who said it out loud.

"There are no slam dunks in baseball."

The Medic did not believe it.

"Sure der are! I am da expert in baseball around here! I know how Brittany Ruth scored a whole lot of 'dem slam dunks!"

The Sniper resisted the urge to slap his face. Yes, this lad may be a dignified, honourable, organized and proud doctor but not the sharpest knife in the drawer whenever it comes to American sports.

What the boy had said has proved Engie's hypothesis, even though he has not started with his experiment yet. Now it was time to conclude and get serious about the topic that haunted him.

"Uh, well if ya really are the baseball expert, I can't argue with um… 'Brittany Ruth' being a good baseball player… I swear I've never heard of her though…"

"It's because yah don't play baseball enough, dumbass."

The Aussie felt a little embarrassed for the Medic. But still, it was entertaining to see him being so sure of something that was obviously wrong.

"May I ask you a favour Spah?"

Sniper turned to the Engineer. "_Oui_?"

"Can I talk to the Scout… privately?"

_Bloody hell. _

"_He's figured it out already…"_, thought the Sniper. He wasn't sure, but with the tone that his close friend was using, he could tell. There was no way he'd want to leave just the two of them. He wanted to hear what the Engineer will have to say… and the fact that Engie has already known was itching him.

He won't leave, but he would make it seem that he did so.

This Sniper was a Spy, after all.

"Alright, I'll leave. The sun is getting hot anyway."

The tone he used matched the Frenchman's: a bit sarcastic with a pinch of disappointment and gloom. The man stood up, adjusted his necktie, and proceeded to light his cigarette.

Engineer made sure that the 'Spook' was out of sight. After a few minutes, he heard the door behind them slam shut.

"_Wow, that guy wasn't a tad curious 'bout what I might say to Scout? That is very much un-Spy like…" _

"Sooo… whattdya want to tell me, hard hat?"

The Medic felt that this conversation was the work of destiny. He had been waiting for the Engineer to talk to him about this for a good amount of time now because he needed a helping hand with his machine.

But of course, being the cranky old man he is, it took him some time to adjust to the Scout's bouncy and energetic body. He completely forgot about asking the Engineer for help. He didn't want the man to figure out by himself, though…

Because it meant that he… or maybe one of them, had very _BAD _acting skills.

"I'm having weird sensations in my stomach…", started the Engineer. "My stool is very watery, and I go the lavatory much too often. I also get a little weak, and I think it's because of the dehydration. Do yah know what's wrong with me?"

It was like asking the German doctor what the result was if you add 1 and 1 together.

"I think it's diarrhea, Herr Engineer", said the Medic. Whenever he was going to talk about diseases and stuff that doctors know, he can't help but slip his tongue. "You must drink a lot of fluids, especially fruit juices, to help aid the dehydration. And take plenty of rest too", he said. The man stared up at the shed's roof then back at Engineer. He pointed at the Texan's round tummy. "Avoid milk, it makes it worse."

"AH KNEW IT!"

Medic's eyes grew wide. _"Mein Gott! It vas a test!" _thought the 'young' lad. He silently wished he hadn't said anything.

He was just as bad as Scout when it comes to acting. He had standards, but he failed to reach them. How humiliating.

The Medic was suddenly engulfed in the Engineers large arms. "Oh man, I found the real Medic!"

"The real Medic?" asked the German. "What're yah talkin' about, Engie?"

Engineer frowned. _"This guy ain't giving up."_

He quickly let go of the boy and held him by the shoulders. "Yah don't need to act like you don't know anything, doc. Just give up and tell me what the hell is going on."

"What? I don't understand a single crap you're saying Engie."

Engineer kept a straight face. He knew the Medic for a long time, and he's aware about how he reacts to certain situations.

"The Scout is rummaging through you're chemicals, medicines, pills and syringes in the medical bay."

"ZHE SCOUT IS VHAT?!"

That shriek reached the far ends of the desert they were situated on.

"I CANNOT BELIEVE ZHIS! HOW DARE HE! ZHERE IS NO WAY I AM GOING TO FORGIVE ZHAT BRATTY - "

The German started to stand but the Texan pulled him back to sit down, and this made his butt ache.

"You ain't going anywhere 'till you explain to me all this, mister!"

Engineer observed the face he was staring at right now. It was red and puffy because of the anger and stress that filled him up once he learned about the real Scout. It was quite hard for him to absorb the fact that this was the Medic; the calm, levelheaded and composed Medic.

"LET ME GO HERR ENGINEER!"

"Not 'till I hear your explanation, doc!"

The kid threw his hands in the air and started talking.

"Vell, I vas in zhe middle of making zhis machine that had good neurological effects; it could stun a person through projecting rays that directly access the nervous system… but zhen zhe Sniper came in carrying zhe Scout who has been bitten by a snake…"

"He got bitten by a snake?"

"Ja. Anyvay, I voke him up vith a few chemicals… and zhe side effect vas zat he could not open his eyes so he vas blind momentarily… he thought zhat zhere vas a snake and he started running around due to fear of it."

"Oh… damn, I think I could imagine what happened next."

"Believe me, it wos the worst."

Engineer jerked up when an unexpected voice came from behind. Turns out that the Sniper was cloaked the whole time and never left the two.

"It wasn't a pretty sight mate. He ran straight to the doc's bloody machine, with the Spook cloaked beside it. Once they clashed it wos just like… as the Cyclops would say it, 'kablooey'."

The Texan absorbed the information like a sponge. Before he could react, Sniper spoke again.

"When we woke up, are brains all got switched. I wos in the Spook's body and he wos in mine, and it's the same thing for the doc and the little bugger."

"So you are the Sniper?"

"The one and only."

The Engineer chuckled a bit. "What a fine mess ye got yerselves into. No wonder there were certain unusual stuff that happened ever since I last saw you guys in the med bay."

"Zhe machine has not been fixed yet though", said the Medic. He bowed a bit in humiliation.

"Who else is aware of this besides the victims and me?"

Sniper shrugged. "Well, for now no one else."

The Texan stood up frustrated, and put both his hands on his hips. "Now why in tarnation have you not decided to tell us, your comrades?"

The Medic was getting agitated. There was a boy on the loose in his lab, and he needed to deal with it.

"It wos the Medic's idea."

The German sighed heavily. By the time he would reach the bay, it would probably be a bigger mess than when he last left it.

"It would be better if only a few people now, zhat way zhe 'mess' created would be easy to clean up… and we would leave _no trace of it_."

"Did it occur to you that I could help? I mean, not that I'm bragging or anything, but I'm an Engineer. Repairing machines is like memorising the alphabet for me. Surely we could repair it quickly."

"I vas about to talk to you…", the Medic claimed. "But ve had to deal vith ze intelligence, and it was too unruly after zhat."

Engineer shifted his body weight to the wooden post and leaned against it. "I think I'll forgive you for not bringing me into this… I mean, at least now I know what caused that hurricane inside... do you have any idea of what the administrator might say about this?"

Both the switched men fell silent, and their jaws fell. Medic's thoughts about the Scout destroying the bay evaporated from his mind in an instant.

"I thought so", said the Texan. He scratched his head and sighed heavily. "Did you ever think about that problem?"

"I must say honestly zhat it is just now zhat I remembered her… but I believe zhat we could sort it all out wizhout a word about zhe svitch reaching her."

Sniper took another cigarette and flicked it using the Spy's lighter. "Dang roight. This problem better not reach her though. Who knows how she'll react to it."

"Anyway let's stick to the main point, which is fixing the machine. Do you still have the blueprints doc?

The Medic nodded. "Yes, it's still somevhere inside zhe bay… "MEIN GOTT, ZHE MEDICAL BAY!"

He stood up and ran as fast as his Scout-feet could carry him.

The Aussie chuckled inwardly. "Hard to believe that he's the Medic, eh?"

"You bet, Stretch…", Engineer mumbled. "And I also find it hard to believe what you've done to breakfast earlier today. How'd the Spah take it? And what in dang hell happened to your eye?"

Sniper frowned at the mention of the word 'Spy'. "Long story Truckie, I'll need to write a book about it first."

* * *

"I AM READY FOR THE CHECK-UP, NAZI!"

The Scout shot him an angry look. "Yah didn't need to shout, stupid, I'm right beside you!"

Solly didn't care about his rant, though. "Let's start right away, and hurry! I still need to get back to my exercise routine."

"Alright, alright. Just sit on the bed and drink those pills. And STAY QUIET FOR PETE'S SAKE!"

The American did as he was told, and felt a bit queasy when he saw the doctor's signature evil smile. He wore his gloves, stretched them and let it go so it snapped back.

"Heh heh, it's time for your frickin' examination, rocket-boy…"

* * *

Beware of doctor scout. He will create so much trouble in the future.

THANK YOU FOR READING, please don't forget to review XD. I'll go back to beating merasmus now...

See you all next week :D


	9. Soldier's trip to the Doctor's Office

Hiya!

Thank you to all who reviewed, faved and followed. I love you and I'm sending virtual hugs to you right now :D

I am SO SORRY for the delay in uploading the next chapter… I had to deal with the end of the semester and the VERY LONG lines for enrolment.

Anyway, I managed to find time to get it done, so enjoy this chapter!

(Oh, and I beat Merasmus already. HUNTSMAN FTW!)

**EDIT: **I might not be able to upload the next chapter until after Nov 25 or something... i'm super busy and i might not be home for the week (meaning, no net access).

* * *

Soldier's whole life flashed before his eyes. This happened so briefly yet the scenes that ran across his brain were so detailed; he felt as if he were re-living each vision. Why was this happening?

"Screamin' eagles!"

After his flashback, the man stood straight up and the noise he created startled the excited Scout.

"What the hell? Go back tah lying on da bed, Rocket-boy!" he cried from one corner of the room. Here, he started mixing any kind of weird liquid chemical he saw into a fairly large, transparent jar. It was the only jar with no dead, floating organ within it, but it was already filled with some kind of transparent liquid which Scout assumed could "cure diabetes".

Solly hated these check-ups but he slightly liked them, only because the doctor would tell him that he is perfectly healthy (physically, not mentally) and this made him feel like a puppy being praised after mastering some new doggie trick.

He had been waiting for the doc to tell him this, that he was 'eating the right stuff', 'great in working-out' or at least 'looking good' (but not in the gross way).

So far he hasn't heard any of this, nor has he heard him say a single word in German.

Solly may not be the brightest among the men in the house, but his American senses were tingling. He sat uncomfortably on the bed, and rested both his elbows on his knees. Thinking made him lower his head and his helmet nearly covered most of his face.

"NAZI!"

Scout stopped what he was doing and sighed aloud. He merely replied a frustrated, "What?!"

"This check-up is OVER! Why are you taking so long?! I still have my daily exercise routine to return to!"

"I am not finished with you yet!"

"I AM PERFECTLY HEALTHY YOU MAGGOT! AS HEALTHY AS A HORSE - "

"Stop with the horses already, chucklehead! Besides, I just discovered yah got some serious disease runnin' through your frickin' circle… circulatin'… uhm, circuslatory system!" The word didn't sound right to the Bostonian, but who cares? It was Soldier he was talking to anyway.

The man's eyebrows shot up. "I DO NOT HAVE ANY DISEASE! Like I said yah old Nazi, I'm perfectly healthy - "

Scout interrupted him before he could mention a certain fast, land-dwelling animal. "Yer blood sugar's too high, faggot! Now shut up and behave like a good kid!"

Damn, giving orders to Soldier felt good. When he was back in his body, the older man would never listen to him.

Soldier stopped his rant. "Come again?"

"I said your blood sugar's too damn high."

Instead of reacting violently, the Soldier bumped his hands against his chest and breathed in air. "IT IS BECAUSE WE AMERICANS LOVE TO BEAT THE RECORDS AND PUT YOU NAZIS TO SHAME! How high is my blood sugar? Was I able to beat the current record holder, oktoberfest?"

Scout slapped his forehead. "You IDIOT! That is a BAD THING… I think… well, at least I think I heard Engie said that too much sugar was bad… SO DON'T BE TOO HAPPY!"

The American's arms crossed over his chest and he pouted like a disappointed child. "Whatever, I just want to do my 100 laps around this desert on time!"

The young lad took one of the red pills in a glass bottle labelled 'NOT FOR CONSUMPTION' and plopped it into his jar. It hissed as it was slowly absorbed by the, err… deadly mixture of chemicals.

"Take those pills beside yah and swallow two of 'em. It can awesomely lower your blood sugar so you won't get… uh… dia… diabees? Diamond… diary… diabeet… diabetes! I assure you, those pills prevent diabetes!"

Soldier would be in a lot of trouble if he would obey this 'Medic' and take in everything he is told to consume.

The bottle didn't have a label, so he popped the cap of and poured seven tablets onto his meaty hands. He eyed the blue coloured tablets curiously, and swallowed ALL of it in one gulp.

Once the pills were halfway down his throat, he choked for around 5 seconds.

"ACK! Ergh, *cough cough!* Ahem… Ahem… **AHEEEEEEM!** Ah, much better…"

Using the sleeves of his uniform, Solly wiped the sweat off his forehead.

"Wait a minute… how many of those beady things were I supposed to eat? Ten, right?" He uncapped the bottle once again and took another one.

"Nope. I said only two."

Silence.

And then in a few seconds, a high pitched scream.

"WHAAAAAT?! What happens when you take, uh… at least ten of those little maggots?!"

Scout looked at him, eyes wide with shock. "YAH TOOK TEN OF DOSE TINGS?!"

"NOT MY FAULT! YOU SAID TEN THE FIRST TIME YOU TOLD ME TO CONSUME IT!"

Scout shook his head violently. "No, you dumkaff! I said two! Who in da hell knows what freaky mutation stuff happens when yah take TEN FRICKIN' PILLS - "

"Bah!" scoffed the Soldier. "Anyway, at least my blood sugar levels would get low… and I'm assuming it is a GOOD THING."

"It would get TOO low, dummy! Do yah know what happens when the levels are too low?!"

Soldier raised his head. "OF COURSE I DO!"

Scout's eyes twitched and glared at him.

The American private avoided the eye contact and scratched his bowing head. "Uhm, but I may have forgotten… what happens when I am overdosed with these little maggots?"

The truth is Scout had no idea as well. Heck, he didn't even know what the real effects of the pills were.

"You… you could become… a sugar addict… YEAH! You'll become a sugar addict that would eat anything sweet nonstop! It would totally mess your weight up!"

Scout mentally slapped himself. _"Seriously? Is that the best you can come up with?!"_

That made the American slightly uncomfortable.

"Well… then cure me! You're the doctor! Get it out of my systems RIGHT NOW!"

"Huh? I can't do that! I have no idea how!"

Soldier began to lie on the medical bed, but then the 'Medic's' statement startled him. "You can't?"

"Of course I can!" exclaimed the Scout. He had to prove to Soldier that he could be as remarkable as the real Medic. "Just… just wait there."

He started rummaging the different cabinets and shelves found inside the bay. A small jar with neon pink fluid caught his eye.

"Da hell is this?" he murmured to himself. "Nah, probably won't cure shit."

He threw it behind his back and resumed messing up the cabinet.

Scout found another bottle, but he threw it the same way he threw the previous jar.

Several moments later he started throwing any bottle, jar, or glassware in every direction.

The way Scout disposed of the jar made Soldier uncomfortable. Was the Medic aware of what he was doing?

One of the fluid filled containers nearly hit him. "Screamin' eagles! What the heck are yah doin' doc?! WHERE'S THE DAMN CURE?!"

"Be patient dumbass, I'm still looking for it!"

Dumbass?

Knowing his comrades for so long, the Soldier was already used to the expressions each of his men used. His ears were very familiar with how the words 'bloody', 'crikey', or 'blimey' sounded perfect with the Aussie's voice, or how the words 'lassie', 'boyo', or 'dominatening' belonged to the accent of Demoman.

His brain cannot register correctly the use of the word 'dumbass' with the German's voice.

Suddenly, a series of thoughts filled his tiny head.

The doctor lost his German Nazi accent. He said words with an American tone and used almost always English words. He still hasn't heard a single German phrase from this man's mouth.

Medic never threw his equipment around carelessly. He was always treating them as if they were his babies or something. And the doves! They never landed on his shoulder… In fact, they seemed to keep a distance from their owner, as if he were not the caring human that has fed them with rotten organs.

Also, he was starting to sound a little bit weird.

Weird, but very familiar.

Soldier stroked his chin and muttered under his breath. "This ain't the old Fritz I used tah know…"

While the Bostonian threw jars here and there, Solly leaped from the bed and stormed to the direction of the man.

He grabbed his shoulders and made the 'German' face him directly. His brute force pushed him against the wall.

"HEY! What's dah matter chucklehead?!"

Damn, Medic sounded different.

But the way he talked was recognizable, like he has heard this accent before.

"Yoo-hoo, earth tah Soldier! What dah hell bozo, let go of me!"

"Not until you tell me what is going on with you, Hippo-crates!"

Scout raised a brow. "Huh? What do yah mean?!"

Solly bent his head closer and intently looked at the German eye to eye. "Who are you, really?" he said in a dark voice.

Shit. This brain-lacking rocket maniac found him out.

"I am the Medic, of cours - "

"LIAR!"

He picked up the doctor and threw him on the floor.

_BLAG!_

"OW! What was dat for?!" Scout tried to stand up, but the Soldier pinned him down to the ground with his massive hands. He head-banged the poor kid with his helmet and looked at him straight in the eye.

"OUCH!"

"YOU'RE THAT BLU CROUTON, AREN'T YAH?! HIT THE SHOWERS, FRENCHIE!"

Scout's eyes widened. _"Fuck, he thinks I'm da Blu Spy! Oh boy dis is bad!"_

"Or course not, Herr Soldier! Like I said, I am the Medic - "

His words stopped short when he saw a fist that was about to become one with his face.

Oh fuck.

Scout closed his eyes with full force and managed to block his face using his arms. He waited for what seemed like an eternity, but the inexplicable thing happened.

Soldier collapsed heavily on his body.

"Ooof!"

The young lad opened his eyes and found the Soldier unconscious on his body. He was just lying on top of him, very dead looking.

"Phew that was frickin' close…", he mumbled. "I can't believe he almost saw through dis body. Dis chunk of meat has a brain aftah all!"

Scout lied down for a few minutes, too tired to move. That was when he realized the very awkward position he was situated at.

"Oh DAMN! Eew, get off me, faggot!"

He struggled to get up and this made the Soldier's body drop heavily on the cold floor.

"Shit, he looks kind of dead…"

Oh fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck fuckfuckfuck!

The Scout scrambled around Solly's body. "Dem pills! I killed him with dem frickin' pills! Oh SHIT!"

He wasn't sure whether the respawn system could bring him back from death due to unusual chemical pills.

Wait, was he really dead?

Scout carried the unconscious body all the way to the medical bed, and he placed him on top of it, as if he were some trash being thrown. The stethoscope on top of the nearest desk caught the Bostonian's eye, and he quickly equipped the medical gadget. His hands were sweating as he directed the chest piece across the man's stomach.

Yes, as dumb as it may sound, he suspected that Soldier's heart is located somewhere near his intestines.

He wasn't able to detect a single heart beat (of course, the chest piece was nowhere near the heart) and this made Scout's hands sweat some more.

"Fuck, he's dead… can da respawn system sense this?!"

The chair nearby gave a sigh as Scout's heavy body slumped against it. He covered his face with his palms. "Oh man, what dah shit do I do now…"

He sat there in silence for a few minutes, then he realized that he needed to ask the real Medic for help.

Was it worth it? He would probably get killed by the old man (but technically, it would be the Medic killing himself) and maybe the news might reach the Administrator, which would make the situation worse.

Scout detached his head from his hands, and as fate would have done it, his eyes landed on the life-saving solution to the problem…

Literally a life saving solution because he was staring at the jar of chemicals he formulated a while ago.

"YES! This would certainly bring dat rocket-boy back to life!" Scout cheered. He jumped from his seat and grabbed a large syringe.

This was the perfect opportunity to prove to himself (and Solly) that he can be as life-saving as the Medic was.

* * *

Everything was ready.

The syringe he was holding in his right hand gave off a murky glow because of the liquid inside the barrel.

"This is it, duncoupf! I WILL BRING YAH BACK TO YOUR STINKIN' LIFE!"

He harshly injected the contents of the syringe near the Soldier's heart, and the needle was dangerously close to it too. Slowly, he pushed the plunger until the barrel was empty.

Scout immediately removed the injection and placed cotton on the wound.

"Damn it, I hope I made da right choice because I'm as good as dead if - "

His eyes grew to the size of billiard balls when he saw strange, murky-coloured streaks forming from his heart, and slowly expanding to his whole body.

"Shit! What's happening?!"

Soldier's face expressed pain, but Scout was not able to catch the reaction. He was so bewildered when the streaks were lengthening and tracing the blood vessels inside Solly's body.

Sweat beads formed on Soldier's face, as well as on Scout's.

The lines were multiplying and by now, his patient looked like a zebra.

"FUCK! WHAT HAVE I DONE?!"

There was a sudden knock at the door.

_KNOCK KNOCK!_

"SHIT!"

Scout's eyes darted from Soldier to the door, then back to soldier and back to the door. He did this around 5 times.

There was a knock again.

_KNOCK KNOCK!_

Soldier looked pretty bad now, and his unconscious body started jerking wildly and out of control.

He had no choice; the boy had to hide the body before anyone would find it (especially the Medic). He carelessly carried the body and made it dangle on his shoulders.

Oh man, Solly was HEAVY.

The person behind the door knocked again.

_KNOCK KNOCK!_

"COMING! JUST WAIT A BIT!"

He looked around the bay. "Shit, where do I hide him?!"

Solly started to jerk again, and Scout accidentally let go of him. The body hit the floor with a loud BOG.

"Oh, sorry pally!"

Instead of carrying him again, Scout used Soldier's feet to drag him all the way to a large cabinet. It was a hard task because the body was having seizures.

"This looks good."

He opened it and found out it was where the Medic kept most of his lab gowns and gloves. Scout immediately removed any unnecessary stuff inside and threw it behind his back. Once there was enough space, he quickly carried the body which had now felt very hot and sweaty, and forced it inside the wardrobe.

"Come… on…!"

_KNOCK KNOCK!_

"JUST WAIT A MOMENT! Come on, get in… side… you… chunk… of… MEAT!"

With all his strength, the kid managed to compress Soldier inside the cabinet. He quickly closed the cabinet and locked it with a metallic tube he found on the floor.

Solly was still jerking inside, making a lot of noise. Scout collapsed on the medical bed and thought about what in the fuck just happened.

"This was NOT supposed tah happen! Now it looks like I would have tah ask for some help from dah real Medic - "

_KNOCK KNOCK!_

"Oh right. You may come in now!" shouted the stressed Scout. Who could that be?

The doors swung open and in came the Pyro.

"Mmmphm!"

"Oh it's just you!"

Scout sighed. "Why are you here?"

His companion shrugged and mumbled, "Shur murnshree shuk-urp."

Oh.

"Yes! Of course, hahahaha silly me! Sorry mumbles, I was just so busy with something that I completely forgot about it."

"_Damn it, how could I forget about that?!"_

Pyro merely nodded and sat on the Medical bed.

And that was when Scout stopped whatever he was doing to stare at a blank wall.

"_How in da frickin' hell do I perform a check-up on this guy… girl… creature?!"_

He stared at the red menace for a long time, thinking about how to do the check-up. The Pyro was sitting calmly with his legs swinging to and fro. It seemed so hum something to itself while looking at the mess inside the medical bay.

Suddenly, a thought entered the wise mind of the Scout.

"Uhm, herr Pyro?"

The creature looked at him with those soulless eyes.

"Can you remove all of your clothing? I need to, uh, see if you are physically healthy."

The eyes drilled holes through Scout's spirit but the living organism nodded like an obedient pet. "Surrr shung durhk."

The Bostonian jerked up. Oh my gosh did it just say yes?!

Pyro started removing his shoes slowly, making the Scout try to control his emotions emotions and restrain himself from squealing like a little girl.

This is it.

He was finally going to be the first person to EVER see a glimpse of this monster's face. This doctor deserves a Nobel Prize!

After removing one boot, Pyro proceeded to remove the other one in a slower manner. It carefully caressed the black boot and slowly… very slowly, tried to pry it off of his foot. Under the footwear were black socks which covered it's legs' skin, and because of this the Scout is still unable to determine its skin colour. The arsonist became aware of how the 'German' was staring at him, and it made it uncomfortable.

"Murduurhk?"

He didn't respond. He was too busy wondering about who this fire-loving menace could possibly be under the mask. Could it be a guy with a painful back-story, or maybe a fiery girl with an awesome passion for fire? Dang, this monster could be a real monster, with a deformed face and a smile that would make you feel like staring at the devil himself!

Scout squirmed in his seat as he thought about the countless possibilities.

"Murduurhk?"

"_Come on Mumbles! Undress already!"_

"MUR-DUURHK."

"Huh?"

Pyro was standing in front of him, carrying his boots with one hand. "Urm durhn!"

This was NOT what he expected.

"What? That's it? I told yah to undress!"

His patient nodded and it showed him its boots. "Shee? Urm furhnshed undrrshing."

"Nononononono, no, no, NO. That's not what I meant! I meant a REAL stripping, like, take off ALL your clothes."

Pyro flinched a bit.

"Of course, I do not require you to take off your underwear… I just want to see your face… I MEAN I want to see if you are physically fit… yeah."

A sound came out of the mask and it sounded like a large sigh. "Urkee… yurh ruhree wurnt curmprrht undrrshing?"

"Yes please… and hurry up! I don't have all day, you know."

Pyro's little visit really made him forget about his problem with the Soldier.

The creature sat down on the medical bed, and Scout was unsure of how it felt about having to reveal himself to the Medic. It was never easy to read the emotions of someone with a mask on 24/7.

The Bostonian nearly had a heart attack when Pyro's arms reached under the mask.

"_OH GOSH HE'S GOING TO TAKE THE FRICKIN' MASK OFF FIRST."_

It slowly pulled, and he was able to get a small glimpse of its skin. The skin colour wasn't clear to him yet.

"_This is it! Oh boy oh boy oh boy!"_

His happiness was cut short when the door to the bay opened loudly and an oh-so familiar voice filled the room with one word.

"**HEEEEEEERR SCOOUUUUT!"**

Oh shit.

He went from being excited to being in a state of shock and unspeakable fear.

The boy turned to Pyro, but the organism stopped removing his mask and his attention was diverted to a very red-faced 'Scout'. It greeted the 'Bostonian' but the Medic had no business whatsoever with the fire bug.

His laser eyes were fixated on the Scout.

Oh shit.

Fear and frustration were taking over him because he suddenly became aware that today was his death day. How was he going to die? Who knows? This is the Medic he was thinking about and the German can make him have to face a fate worse than death.

"Before yah say anything…", he told the furious doctor in a ushered tone, "I would want to call the funeral parlor first and order me a nice, elegant casket for my about-to-be-mutated dead body ."

* * *

Okay, end of chapter!First I apologize if there is any mistake in my grammar and spelling or something… I have limited access to the internet so I have to upload this as fast as I can. My internet could expire any minute now…

I will just proofread once I could access unlimited internet somewhere else, but for now, I need to deal with this.

I would like to thank Jinny and Chaos for suggesting that I should get a beta… but ever since college (without internet connection) I am having trouble trying to find one. Perhaps when I get home for the holidays, I could spend some time looking for one :D

And please review, fave or follow… I get inspiration :D

Next up: How Scout would die. No just kidding, it would be more on how Scout and Medic deal with each other (and soldier).

**EDIT: **I might not be able to upload the next chapter until after Nov 25 or something... i'm super busy and i might not be home for the week (meaning, no net access).


	10. Jarate

OKAY!

The quiz bowl and school projects are OVER. I only have 6 hour breaks during Tuesdays so that's when i rape my keyboard with all the ideas i have for the story...

ANYWAY i would like to thank all that reviewed, faved and followed! I LOVE YAH ALL!

Ps: Thank you so much Jinny the Kisaragi for being my beta reader. I couldn't have done it without you *tear slowly drops from right cheek*

So, here's the story!

* * *

The aura surrounding the medical bay was so tense and heavy that the firebug decided to skedaddle away as fast as he could.

_Clopclopclopclopclopclopclop clopclop BANG!_

There went the arsonist. That left only two people in the room.

The Scout wanted to do what the Pyro did, but he quickly threw that thought away when he felt Medic's eyes pierce through his soul.

Time to break the silence, he thought.

"I just want to say dat - "

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!" Medic took two steps closer to the sweating Scout, and nearly stepped on a jar filled with many little bird hearts. "Mein Gott! What is this doing on zhe floor?!"

The jar was picked up right away, and that's when the German's jaw fell.

"I... I… VHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY LITTLE LABORATORY?!"

Scout paled as he explained. "I was just lookin' for some stuff! Yah got too many damn glass jars around, so I had tah throw them away so that I could get a hold of what I was lookin' foh."

"Why didn't you just set zhem aside in an _organized_ way, dummkopf?!"

He scoffed, feeling so confident about his reason. "Of course I didn't organize dem jars because – OH FUCK SHIT WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF DAT?" The confidence in him evaporated, and was replaced by astonishment.

Medic slapped his forehead and crumpled to the floor. "_Mir ist ganz elend…_ I knew I should've locked zhe room before I left…" He took a quick glance around the room but no, he couldn't dare look at how his prized little circle of comfort turned into a post-apocalyptic place.

Sensing that the German has seemed to simmer down, Scout scooted towards him and attempted to give him a pat in the back.

"Aw, don't be - "

"IF YOU COME ANY CLOSER I VILL **KILL **YOU!"

Oops, wrong move. He quickly backed away in a very Scout manner, and continued to speak. "All I'm sayin' is, I had to DO dis!"

"You had to destroy mein equipment and play around zhe medical bay like it vas some kind of playground?!"

The boy shook his head rapidly. "Nononononono I mean, yah see… uhm… I had tah do a check up."

Medic stood up heavily, feeling very stressed. The man straightened a fallen chair and sat on it with his face buried into his hands.

"Give me a good reason vhy you had to do zhis 'check-up'."

Scout tensed some more. "Because… erh, Miss Pauling called."

Medic's eyes popped right through his fingers.

"Miss Pauling?!"

"Yah… y'know, dat pretty little assistant of the damn witch." His face contorted when he remembered the Administrator. "Yep… she's like da sidekick of - "

"I know who she is, shweinhund! I just want to know vhy she called!"

The Bostonian in Medic's body shrugged. "She said somethin' about a monthly check-up. Ya know, da one yah do every month, where Soldier- "

"I know zhat too! Don't remind me of it!"

The boy glared at his former face. "Stop interruptin' me when I'm talkin - "

"Do me a favour and close your mouth."

Scout whined. "See? Yer doin' it again - "

"If you say anozher vord I vill saw your mouth horizontally 'till I reach zhe ears and then sew it back vith my largest needle… and I vould include your lips so zhat zhere vould be vone less noisy man in zhis place."

Scout felt an imaginary needle sewing his lips together… dang, that would be a VERY painful experience. He motioned his fingers and formed an imaginary zipper across his mouth., and gave him an annoyed look.

Satisfied, Medic stood up and picked some of the jars scattered across the floor.

"Oh my poor, poor chemicals… stop crying now, daddy's here."

A look of disgust radiated from the Bostonian. He sat on the medical bed like an obedient boy, waiting for the doctor to tell him what to do... unless he plans to kill him.

The situation was so ironic. If his teammates saw his scene with the Medic, without knowing about their switch, then they might have some new found respect for the changed 'Scout'… It was kind of unusual though, how the 'Medic' was being scolded by the 'Scout'.

"Archimedes? Plato? Descartes? Vhere are you?"

The man in a boy's body whistled a tune that made a bunch of doves land on a nearby open window. One of them had blood stains on its feathers.

"My children! Come to me!"

He whistled another tune that made the doves seem to recognize their 'owner'. Archimedes was the first one to approach him, and he landed on Medic's cap.

This made the German feel a bit peaceful amidst the chaos. "Aw, how nice of you to recognize me."

The bird bobbed up and down his head, then swooped to a nearby table. It made a stance that signalled that he was hungry and ready to eat some new kind of organ. Scout got startled as he witnessed a whole lot of doves swooping down to the Medic. The German gave them a warm smile, feeling very happy to be amidst his birds. The doves too, seemed to feel the same.

"_Now dis is one side of da Medic dat I didn't get tah see…" _thought the Scout. He rubbed his chin and analyzed the scene before him.

This is a very unusual case… He never got to see this crazy doctor smile a real smile before… But this is different, because he was staring at his own smiling face. It was the same beam he gave his mother when he received his very first baseball set.

He couldn't help but grin at them as well.

"Who vants some lunch? I bet you are hungry, mein birds!"

As if they understood, most of the doves stopped flying around and landed on the table nearest to the Medic. Some landed on his shoulders.

"_Aw, looks like it's eatin' time!"_ thought the Scout. He has been very quiet since the Medic's last threat.

He enjoyed looking at the enthusiastic Medic. It was like looking at a bunch of kids excited and happy that their dad has arrived home late from work. He then remembered his dad, but quickly dismissed the thought. There was no time for him to regret broken bonds.

"Open your mouths!"

The way the birds acted reminded him of his brothers, the way they fought over something dad would bring home as a surprise. Archimedes flew to the top of Medic's head, which made the German smile some more.

"Oooh, you vant zhe first bite, don't you Archimedes?"

The bird cooed softly and bobbed up and down his head. There was no doubt; this was Medic's favourite bird. Ugh, that damn bird who probably knew what his lungs and liver tasted like. He still hasn't forgiven Medic for that stupid incident.

Suddenly, he felt like he and Archimedes are a bit alike…

Whenever his dad came home, he was the first little boy the man would hug and greet. After that, he gets a ride on his father's shoulders while the other boys struggled to get their dad's attention; some of them were more than naughty though… he remembered those 'accidents' he had when one of his brothers pulled him down from the tall man's shoulders and blame another boy for doing such a cruel thing.

Man, how he missed those assholes.

Scout rested his head on his hand as he watched the Medic act all fatherly with his doves. He unconsciously smiled warmly at them.

Shucks, what a beautiful scene.

"Are you all ready to have bloody birds' hearts for lunch?" asked Medic as he waved the jar that made swishy sounds. Inside was a bunch of tiny hearts. The doves made more 'crooing' sounds, indicating that yes, they were hungry little cannibals.

Fuck, what a disgusting scene.

His nearly barfed as he watched Archimedes peck on the heart of a bird that could have belonged to its mother or sister. Medic caught his action and went back to being his creepily evil self.

"Vhat is zhe matter, Herr Scout? Are you hungry too?"

He couldn't take it anymore. He needed a barf bag.

The German chuckled darkly and looked for a dry towel, for blood was stained all over his hands and Scout's favourite red shirt. He glanced at his cabinet and raised a brow when he saw a metallic tube that kept the cabinet closed to contain whatever heavy object that was inside it.

He didn't remember putting anything unusual inside his cabinet for his lab gowns.

The doctor became curious and tried to pull away the metallic tube with all Scout's strength. The Bostonian saw this, and suddenly he remembered that one crucial thing that he nearly forgot.

He swallowed his vomit (eew) and paled when Medic was close to opening his wardrobe.

"OH SHIT DON'T OPEN DAT - "

Too late. Soldier's body collapsed on the Medic, and both of them sprawled on the floor.

Medic's eyes grew wide. So did Scout's. Soldier's though, remained closed.

"**HEEEERRRRR SCOOOOOUUUUT!"**

* * *

Normally, the Sniper would be having a good time drinking around both the Cyclops and the labourer inside their messy little living room. The three men were comfortably seated on a worn out couch.

"And then I said 'HAH! I dinnae noo about thah!' Then ah walked away, and after a few seconds, KABLOOEY! There went me enemy's little sheep farm!"

Engineer's face was red from drinking. "That story never get's old, Tavish!"

Normally, the Sniper would have commented the way Engie did, and encourage Demo to tell another one of his childhood stories.

But the situation was not normal, and he was not the Sniper.

"Yeehaw", said Spy in a very indifferent tone. "What a good story."

Demo slapped the life out of Spy.

"_Merde!"_ hissed the Frenchman. He made sure that neither the Engie not the Demo has heard that.

Demoman chuckled loudly. "Whah is wrong with yah, mate? Yah haven't drunk up yet!"

"I cannot drink any of that… that… low class liquor!"

"Yes yah can! Thah's just me bottle o' Scrum..." he suddenly lost most of his consciousness and banged his head against their table, spilling a few bottles of alcohol.

"Like I said _mon cheri_, low class", insisted Spy, with a hint of French accent.

Engineer chuckled to himself. He knew exactly what was wrong with the man. Ever since Medic and Sniper told him the truth, he had been looking at his teammates in a whole new kind of perspective. It was a bit fun too. Sniper very rarely curses in French, and seeing 'Scout' act like an old man was quite entertaining in an unusual way.

"Yah okay there, campground?"

Spy adjusted his hat and did a very Sniper pose. He knew that he had to be careful around the Engineer; this man was as sharp as his own butterfly knife, which was renamed to 'Bessie' by its current owner.

"Ah, I'm foine mate. I'm just not in the bloody mood for drinkin'.

Engie smiled. "Whenever you're not in the mood, it means something's up. What's troublin' yah, pardner?"

"_Putain, this man is starting to interrogate me!" _Spy groaned inwardly. He tried to mask his frustration and forced a very Sniper like smile.

The Texan didn't fall for it though; he knew exactly who this man really was.

"I'm tellin' yah mate, nothin's troublin' me."

"Oh I doubt that. You can tell me anything Stretch, I would want to help yah no matter what the problem is. Remember; I solve practical problems."

"Oh I doubt you can fix this 'ell of a problem, labourer." His French accent was no longer masked.

Before Engineer could say anything, the Spy raised his hand in an immediate manner, as if he sensed that something was wrong.

"Did you 'ear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Listen."

Sure enough, Engineer did here some kind of sound; the sound of classy shoes clopping slowly and carefully on the wooden floor. Both of the men turned towards the direction of the unusual sound, but didn't see a single thing.

Good. This was what Spy was expecting to see. Nothing.

"You still stink at sneaking up on me, bloody spook", remarked the Spy using his Aussie accent. It was weird trying to insult himself but of course, he couldn't tell how much the Sniper sucked at his job right in front of the Engineer.

Sniper, on the other hand, admitted defeat by uncloaking. "I wos just testin' it out, crouton. You're lucky that you now have my extreme sense of hearin'."

"Woah, I had no idea that you were standin' over there! How long have you been cloaked, Campground?"

Spy's eyebrow shot upward. "Campground?"

Demoman suddenly shot up and mumbled a few words. After a while, he resumed sleeping with his head on the table.

The Sniper shrugged and sat beside the Spy. "Ever since that bomb lobbin' wanker was not yet drunk."

"Damn, that long?"

"Yep", nodded the Sniper. "Just came tah see how my mate here could handle a drunk Scot." He patted the French on his back but the man dodged his arm and glared at him angrily.

He was trying to mentally tell him to 'shut up or else the labourer will find out about our little situation'.

Sniper shot him a 'he-has-already-found-out' look.

Spy's eyes grew wide, and gave him a 'ow-in-the-world-did-he-know?' expression.

The Aussie shrugged and his face read, 'it-was-a-bloody-long-story'.

Engineer looked at them both with a 'why-the-hell-are-you-guys-making-weird-faces-at-each-other' face. He decided to translate it to audible speech.

"Why the hell are you guys making weird faces at each other?"

Sure, the Frenchman and the Aussie were the most dangerous enemies in their team, but both of them had no idea how much they knew each other. Being able to read facial expressions of each one is concrete evidence of how 'close' they are.

"Me mom's China pots were made in India!" shouted the Demoman. After a few seconds, he dozed off once more.

"Anyway", said the former sharp shooter in attempt to change the subject, "I want to tell yah something Spook."

The Spy gave him a look of doubt and whispered close to him so that the Engineer would not be able to hear a word he said. "If you named my Sapper or my Revolver with your stupid low class cow names then I swear I will - "

"No, it's not that. This is something important."

Sniper looked at the Engineer. "Tex, the wanker and I have some important matters to discuss… so if you'll excuse us, we'll be on our way to the weapons room."

The Texan nodded and stood up. "I'll have tah get going too. Those buildings ain't gonna build themselves!"

And with that, he went away while whistling a Texan tune.

That left Sniper, Spy and a sleeping Cyclops in their living room.

"Now", said Spy, "what is it you wanted to tell me?"

"Not here", answered Sniper. He stood up and gestured his rival to do the same. "In the weapons room."

The two left Demoman sprawled all over the couch.

* * *

"I'm out of jarate."

The Frenchman and the Aussie were now inside their weapons room. It looked exactly like any resupply room, except it was located in their humble weekend abode, not in their military base. Sniper pointed at his locker, showing the Spy an empty spot where he should have plenty of piss jars.

Spy sighed heavily. "So?"

This conversation is starting to get boring. Why did he have to care for the filthy Bushman's piss jars anyway?

"Yah have to refill them, mate."

Okay, now that was unexpectedly expected.

The Frenchman chuckled. "'ahahaha, what a good joker you are, _mon cher_. 'ehe, who could imagine me, a 'ighly dignified French citizen, urinate in one of these filthy jars…"

He was shocked to see the Aussie reach out a jar to him. His face made a very serious 'i-ain't-joking' look.

Spy's smile disappeared right away. "Are you serious?"

"As serious as a married couple."

A look of disgust formed on Spy's face. Where in the hell did this man get his figures of speech?

"Well, I am extremely sorry Bushman, but you would 'ave to do that yourself. There is no way I would piss on that jar. It's unsanitary."

"You're the Sniper now, yah bloody Spook! Yah need tah fill these jars with piss! It's an extremely important weapon especially when fighting those bloody robots! Also, you need the piss for my… your Sidney Sleeper!"

"Non. I will not piss into a jar."

"Stop bein' a stubborn baby and PISS!"

"Non!_ Merdé_, I will never do it!"

Sniper sighed in frustration. "Those kidneys inside my… your body were upgraded for this particular weapon! It's three times bloody bigger that yours! It was made tah PISS!"

He pushed the jar into the Spook's chest.

"Ow! Filthy jar man! Why won't you piss in it?!"

"You're bloody kidneys are too small! I haven't pissed since we switched!"

"You are insane!"

But it was true… since the switch, the Sniper wasn't able to feel a single tug… the Spy, on the other hand, kept on fighting the urge to urinate almost every hour.

He felt the tug of his sphincter muscle… oh, what bad timing.

"Like I said…", remarked the Spy, "Urinating into a piece of glassware is unheard of! Unspeakable! Downright unsanitary! Disgusting! It stains my reputation!"

"Well, I sure would loike to stain your reputation by pissing into it in front of the bloody team!"

That made Spy jump back a bit. "You wouldn't."

Sniper smirked. "What makes yah think that I wouldn't?"

The door to their weapons room opened and in came a rather happy Pyro. It greeted the two men and immediately went to its own locker.

The men then argued in whispers.

"I. Will. Not. Urinate. Into. A. Jar."

"Fine."

Sniper looked at the direction of the Pyro. The firebug was busy sorting out his weapons, and it looked like it was looking for something.

Suddenly, he thought of a wonderful idea.

"Oi, mute li'l bugger! Do yah want tah see something jaw-stoppin', eye-poppin', show-stoppin', amazin'?"

The arsonist tilted its head like a cat. "Hurrr?"

People don't know much about this creature, but it is smart and can easily fit puzzles together the way Engie would do it. IT knew right away that something was definitely WRONG with his teammates. First, he remembered how the 'Medic' stared at him this morning, how the 'Spy' greeted it without his mask, how angry the 'Scout' was with the 'Medic', making the older man shrink in guilt… and now this… a creepy 'Spy' with an Australian accent. Oh how it wished balloonicorn could help it sort out this trouble, but it knew that his trusted companion is only present during cute little games with the other team.

Pyro stopped thinking and tried to observe this weird 'Spy'.

"Do yah want to see me piss into this jar right in front of you?"

After Sniper said the last word, the Spy tackled him to the floor with a red face.

And like a little kid who witnessed a dangerous fight between his parents, Pyro skedaddled the way he did back at the Medical bay.

Spy choked the Sniper with both hands. "I will kill you!"

"Ugh… Piss in the damn jar first!"

"Never!"

Sniper punched the Spy in the throat, which made the man stumble away and clutch his neck. "Augh, my neck! Cough cough cough!"

Spy's eyes were welling up with tears as the pain remained. It would be very difficult for him to speak loudly.

He quickly stood up and punched the recovering Sniper on the other non-black-eyed eye.

"OOW! CRICKEY!"

Now he has two black eyes. The Sniper looked like a red panda.

Spy held him down with both hands and tried to shout at him, but his throat was too stressed and what came out of the Frenchman's mouth were mere whispers.

"Argh… yah… bloody spook!" cried the former marksman. He saw struggling to get away from his own body's grip, but dang he was a bit stronger than he thought he was.

Without his voice, Spy shouted a loud whisper… more like mouthed the words, 'I-will-not-piss-in-a-jar!"

"Oh yes you will, wanker!"

Since Sniper was physically fighting 'himself', he knew all the weaknesses of his own body. Using the Spy's gloved fingers, he tickled the Spy in his most ticklish spot; to the upper sides of his pelvic bone. Since it was his body he as fighting against, Sniper knew exactly when he'd start urinating after a good tickle.

"Wait, whahahahAHAHA! Stop! Stop it this instahahahaHAHAHA!"

Spy's laugh came out in weird whispers, making him sound like a giraffe. The Frenchman suddenly felt that the tug was getting stronger, and that he could no longer hold his urine.

Good thing (or bad, depending on the situation) Sniper was there to help him expel that liquid body waste and turn it into a weapon that slows down robots.

Sniper quickly unzipped his… or Spy's pants while continually tickling him. Once the upper portion of the pants were down, he paled when he stared at his own briefs.

"Suddenly this has become a bad oidea…", he whispered to himself, still not ceasing his tickling hands.

"Merdé! What are you doihahahahaHAHA STAHP IT RIGHAHAHAHAHA!"

Sniper closed his eyes and regretted what he has done.

But he begun it, and now it was time for him to put an end to this.

"It is time for yah to PEE YOU WANKER!"

He removed his own brief and with all the timing and precision in the world, was able to fill one jar with Spy's piss within 10 seconds.

Spy, finally free from the clutches of evil tickling, breathed heavily.

"'ow…. 'ow… 'ow dare… 'ow dare… wait let me… let me catch my breath… hooo…"

Both of them just sat there in the weapons room, trying to regain strength after an unusual battle for piss.

Sniper closed the jar and stared wearily at the Spy, panting and gasping as if he ran a marathon around the desert. "Okay… one down… 20 more to go…"

The Frenchman's eyes nearly popped out of their eye sockets.

"Herrr merh gerhd…" said a voice that came from behind. Both of them turned to see Pyro, which could have been looking at them with disgust.

"Oh hello mate…", started the Sniper. But when he studied his position with the Spy and how the door's angle perceived their situation, the Aussie nearly stopped breathing.

So did the Spy. He immediately put on both his brief and his pants.

The firebug continued to stare… "Herrr merh gerhd…"

Sniper stood up quickly and looked at the Pyro, eye to optical mask lens. "This is not what you think it is!"

Spy slapped his forehead.

The Aussie tried to approach Pyro, but Mumbles ran away from him as fast as he could.

"Derhh nrrt turch murr!"

Fearing that the organism might 'tell' on them for something they didn't do, Sniper ran after it.

"Pyro, yah mumblin' mutant! Come back here!"

Once out of the view, Spy stood up and dusted his clothes. He looked sympathetically at Sniper from a distance, bowed solemnly and shook his head.

Then he saw the jar full of piss.

"Merdé, I went through too much nonsense just for the sake of creating you…", he told the jar as he carefully picked it up. He turned towards the Snipers locker and found the other 20 jars.

Suddenly, filling up these jars with piss isn't as bad as having the Aussie harass and force him into peeing for the weapon.

The Spy sighed and took pity at himself. When was this will this switch ever end?"

"Anyway", he told himself as he reached for another empty jar, "time to get to work."

* * *

Okay guys if ever you see wrong spellings here and there blame it on the 6 hour break i have. Mind you, i write crap within only 6 hours (normally writing takes me a DAY.)

(Again, thank you Jinny the kisaragi and all reviewers who have reviewed my story so far! You guys make me smile despite the 2nd place we got on our quizbowl! :D)

OKAY! Tell me what you guys think about the story so far! (I had so much one writing this chapter XD)

I need more break time in my life. Now, time to play TF2...

all alone...

offline mode...

with bots named 'totally not a bot'...

*sob*


	11. Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation

O-kay! I know i'm so behind my schedule...so i'm so so so sorry...

It's just that school life gets in the way and all... but now that i'm on vacation (Christmas vacation) i get to write without distraction hehehehehe

Thanks so much to the patient people out there! (Also, to the people who faved, read, reviewed and followed :D)

Of course, i'm so happy to have the patient Jinny beta the story. You are so patient XD

Anyway, let's get along with the story~

* * *

"So these are the blueprint for that darned machine?"

"Vell, yes… alzough I might be missing some for zhe ozher parts… you see, it not just one machine but rather it operates vith 5 parts… two of zhe parts are for power, zhe ozher two for analyzing zhe brain and nervous system of zhe patient…", Medic scratched his head as he tried to recall the way he built the invention, "and zhe biggest part vhich does zhe operation vizh its metallic hands and radioactive beams…"

The two smartest people of their team were studying the physics used to construct Medic's extraordinary invention in the middle of the junkyard which was previously known as the medical bay. The German leaned uneasily on the table with arms crossed; trying to read the expressions the Engineer was giving away as he scanned through the blueprints.

Engineer took one of the blueprints and examined it carefully. "Shucks doc, the pieces you used must've been crafted somewhere else, huh? I don't recall seein' some of these tiny mechanical parts…"

"Oh yes, I had to order zhem from Svitserland, Germany and ozher places."

He stood in perfect posture and smiled confidently, making him look the way Scout did once he secured the intelligence. He may be a doctor, but he knew how to build his own machines and lab equipment and sometimes, weapons.

The Texan wiped the sweat off his forehead; he was already feeling the pressure of having to rebuild foreign equipment filled with tiny, delicate metal pieces.

"I'm not so sure about this doc…", he said as he slowly paced around the bay, "I repaired around a hundred pieces of machinery almost every day of my life… but I've never seen anything like this toy of yours! Never made any lab apparatus before, but of course it's worth a try."

Medic looked at him with concerned Scout eyes. "Can you fix it, Herr Engineer?"

The labourer smiled a very Texan smile. "Of course, doc. I got eleven PhD's… there's no machine in the world that I can't fix."

That seemed to calm the doctor down.

"All I vant is zhat it gets fixed. I want to be back at my own body as soon as possible."

"Aren't you enjoying Scout's young and energetic body?" asked the Engineer. The man comfortably sat down on one of the bay's wooden chairs and scanned some of the blueprints scattered on the table. "I mean, it must feel quite exciting for you, doc. I expected you to feel like you've gotten a sip from the fountain of youth or got involved in some magic spell that brought you back to your adolescence stage."

The German replied by giving him an expression of disgust. "It is nozhing like zhat, _kamerad_. I just feel like an old man placed inside zhe body of a boy vizh a severe case of ADHD."

Engie raised an eyebrow. "That's an interesting thought… So you don't feel overwhelmed or anything? I remember seeing you running like mouse being chased by some rabid dog yesterday while we were playing games with those bastards."

"Oh zhat?", asked the Medic. His face showed hints of red as he closed his eyes and tried to think of an excuse. "Vell, it vas zhe remaining traces of Scout's brain cells, and my consciousness had nozhing to do vith zhat… but I vill admit, it vas very fun to run around like zhe idiot."

"I thought so. It looked like you were havin' the time of your life."

"Running vas never vone of my favourite things to do vhen I vas a child. It vas just yesterday that I vas able to feel… a bit happy and excited as I mimicked zhe _dummkopf_."

"So how _did _you spend your childhood?"

The young lad's eyebrows shot up as if he expected the Engineer to already know the answer.

"I read books about human infections and diseases of course, because nozhing is more enjoyable zhan zhat. Isn't it obvious? I mean, vat kind of child vould vant to run around zhe fields vizh ozher children?"

"Uhm… actually _all_ children would prefer to run around like idiots instead of scanning through medical books…", started the Engineer, but when he saw a weird expression coming from the Medic he quickly took it back. "But… yeah I agree with you, doc! I cannot imagine a perfect childhood without reading at least one book blabbing about loose bowel movement…"

Silence dominated once again, but this time it felt more comfortable. It didn't seem like it, but the Engineer felt like he was having a bonding time with the 'Scout'.

"Hey doc, how'd yah handle the little feller? Looks like he did a good job in making the medical bay look like a post-war zone."

Whenever someone would mention the word 'medical bay' and 'war zone' in one meaningful sentence, the German would make strange whines and noises indicating his mood.

He never did this when before they switched. Were Scout's childish antics affecting him?

"Please, don't remind me about zhat… I never vant to see zhe face of zhe stupid idiot again. How dare he mess up zhis vell organized vorkplace!"

"Don't ever look into a mirror; you might end up shattering it to a million pieces! HahaHA!" He laughed heartily and even managed to slap his knee the way traditional Texans do.

The 'Scout' gave him a look of annoyance. "Herr Engineer, I'm being serious."

Laughter died down slowly, and within a few seconds the man was trying to catch his breath. "Hooo… sorry 'bout that doc… It's just that these weird situations happen too rarely; I'm simply making the best of it." A smile radiated from his face, making Medic's eyebrows furrow.

"Maybe you can make zhe best of it… I have no idea as to how I could adjust to zhis situation."

The man in overalls stood up and rolled all the blueprints together. "Okay! I gotta put these babies in my workshop so I can get started right away… Um doc?"

"Yes, Herr Engineer?"

"Where is the Scout? He's not, um… causing trouble with your body somewhere else?"

Medic's eyes bulged out, because deep inside he knew exactly where the Scout was. He knew exactly what the Scout was doing and he also knew exactly how he was going to cause his death once they get back to their original bodies.

"No… I don't know vhere he is…"

"I bet he's up to no good. You better keep an eye on him."

"Mm-hmm."

"Doc?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Are you okay? You're sweating like a pig in the middle of a doggone desert."

It was true. The way he stood up and moved around nervously was one sign that no, he was not okay. This wasn't normal for the Engineer, because he's seen how the Medic gets nervous and it looked nothing like this.

"_Soldier",_ thought the 'young' doctor._ "I nearly forgot about him!"_

Due to his jittery manner, he unconsciously mimicked the Scout's way of talking.

"Nope! Nothing's wrong at all Hardhat! I just have tah… uhm… I vill be back in a jiffy BYE!"

After that he zoomed past the doors leaving behind a trail of dust.

"Hoooweee! What the hell was that?"

* * *

"Do NOT frickin' die on me you bozo! Wake up for shit's sake! Oh man, dis is SOOOO bad!"

_Slap! Slap! Slap!_

The Soldier didn't even moan in pain or at least cringe due to the impact of Scout's gloved hand. He just continued to lie down on Scout's messy bed like a dead person.

Like a real, dead person.

And it was freaking the Scout.

"If you are dead den could you at least respawn or something?!"

_Slap! Slap! Slap!_

He showed no sign of life nor respawn. Scout felt like slapping a large chunk of meat.

"Great, just great", he groaned sarcastically. The energy in him drained in an instant as he lied down next to Soldier.

"This sucks."

The Scout buried his head on his sweaty gloved hands. Sure, he's killed a whole lot of people during their skirmishes with the rotten BLU team, but no… he has never killed his own teammate before…

And if he ever did kill one of them, they always magically come back to life thanks to the respawn system! Those nasty BLU's that he killed before never stayed dead for more than a minute, because it usually takes around 20 seconds for them to reappear and start running.

But Soldier has been out for at least an hour and a half.

"Come on now Scout, think! What could wake this bastard up?!" he asked himself, refusing to believe that the American patriot was dead. He pulled his body away from the bed and began pacing around noisily.

"Maybe I can revive him with those electrifyin' thingies police use in movies? Nah, we don't even have dat around here… Oh! OH! What if I slap dah life out of him? Damn, already did that… Maybe I could get a bucket of water and splash him… my momma always did dat when I was late for school… nah, fuck it! I don't want to mop the water afterwards…"

So many ideas, yet it seems like none of them were going to work.

"_What if…"_

Holy piss in a jar.

The weirdest suggestion came across his mind.

The pale blue-gray eyes he now possessed looked directly at the only unconscious person in the room. There was no sign of him breathing or snoring; it was as if he had just hit the pause button in Soldier's life.

Or was it the stop button?

"Oh fuck no", said Scout as he shook his head. "There is no way… nobody can frickin' force me to…"

The man took a deep breath and slowly walked towards Soldier. He rubbed his chin intelligently and leaned forward to get a better look at his face.

"Huh… URK!"

Scout immediately backed away with a horrified and disgusted expression. "Uh-huh. NO. FUCK NO. I am never going to give this bozo CPR!"

Just imagining the thought made Scout's legs weaken and feel like jelly. But he had no choice; CPR might just be the answer. Well, at least it would be better than having to face that ugly witch with stupid explanations as to how this happened.

Before the big event, he peered briefly outside his room, banged the door, and quickly locked it.

"Better leave it locked… I don't wanna explain any of dis to the other dummies. Besides, if ever dey would be jinxed enough to catch me it won't ruin my reputation…"

He let out an evil chuckle, making him sound like the Medic ready for an operation. "… but I would be making that bitchy doctor look like a fag."

He licked his lips and took a deep breath. "Alright, here goes nothing!"

Time seemed to stop as the Scout leaned forward inch by inch; hesitantly looking at Soldier's sleeping face every now and then. His right eye was opened and closed every two seconds; making sure his lips were still as far as possible from Soldier's.

"_Don't worry about this… It'll all be forgotten in the future…"_ he thought to himself.

Drops of sweat formed on his forehead and his breath suddenly stopped once he was around 3 inches away from Soldier's mouth.

It literally stopped because two massive hands were choking him to death and shaking his head like a pair of maracas.

"WHAT WERE YOU INTENDING TO DO YOU _MAGGOT_?!"

Oh joy. The Bostonian didn't know what emotions to express; joy because his comrade is still alive, sorrow because the American nutcase is unfortunately still alive, fear because soon he won't be alive, or embarrassment because of the last thing he did while he was still alive.

"Ack ergh guguh ack ack eugh ARGHEGH!" was all he managed to say.

"What? I can't understand a single word you're saying! Speak up maggot!"

Scout sent him a 'get-your-fucking-hands-away-from-my-throat' look with hopes of Soldier understanding his message.

"Ack! Eurghugh erh agck agk!"

"What?!"

Whoops. Scout remembered that it was the American nutcase he was talking to.

"_Dang, I need a different approach!"_ he thought. His head was turning into a beautiful shade of violet.

So a different approach he tried. He punched the man on the nose.

"Aaargh!"

Soldier quickly let go, pushed him away, and covered his red and bleeding nose. "Damn it, Oktoberfest!"

The Bostonian breathed in and out like an asthmatic rhinoceros. "You… you almost… huff… you almost fucking killed me!"

"Well of course I almost killed you because YOU ALMOST KISSED ME WITH YOUR NAZI LIPS! AND MAY I REMIND YOU I HAVE NO INTENTION OF KISSING NAZI LIPS! IT'S VERY UN-AMERICAN!"

"Da hell? I was just going to give you CPR because I thought ya were dead! Good thing you're alive though… no CPR needed."

The boy gave a sigh of relief. 'No CPR needed' felt like a heavenly sentence.

The American sat up within half a second and cracked his knuckles. Then, he stood up and stretched his limbs. "CPR? What does it stand for?!"

"I don't know… urgh, carjack polio-fairy recitation?"

"You're asking me private?!"

"Uh, no sir…"

Scout sighed to himself. He hated it when Soldier uses a tone that would make you reply respectfully. He observed quietly as the man in front of him did several jumping jacks. Damn this dude was a freak.

"Huh… I feel surprisingly active today…"

The 'Medic' stopped breathing for a while. _"Was it because of that stuff I injected intah him?! Wait a minute; I have no idea as to how that stuff works… I just remember the real Medic's face went red after he analyzed the goo…"_

"Fritz!"

"Yes, Herr Soldier?" _"What you frickin' dumbass?!"_ It was time to act like the Medic.

"Is this supposed to happen? Did it cure my diabetes?"

"Yep, that's the effect of zhe pills. Besides curing diabetes, it's supposed to make you stronger, and ergh… healthier than a horse?" _"Dude I have no fucking idea… I think it's the effect of the goo… those pills were only supposed to cure diabetes."_

Soldier slapped Scout's back with the same force he uses to punch his enemies. "YOU DESERVE A MEDAL DOC! THANKS FOR THE AID!"

"Ehehehe, no problem!" _"OH SHIT I THINK HE BROKE MY SPINE!"_

Soldier stretched once more and headed for the door. He waved at the doctor (currently in pain) and whistled happily as he exited the room.

The 'old German' collapsed into his bed and tried to recall the events of the day.

"Fuck… what the heck just happened?"

Muffled voices from the outside reached his ears. One of the voices was clearly Soldier's; his voice was not muffled at all. The other voice was so familiar… it sounded like himself.

Oh wait.

_BANG!_

The door flew open, revealing a red faced young lad.

"Vhat zhe heck just happened?!"

"Dude look, I can explain…"

Medic marched angrily towards Scout, and pinched both his cheeks. "ZHEN EXPLAIN TO ME VHY HE IZ STILL ALIVE."

"Obviously it's because… wait, he's _not_ supposed to be alive?"

The German resisted the urge to behead his own body, and he forcefully let go of his own cheeks. "You do not know what kind of chemicals you used, dummkopf!" he said angrily, and he poked him hard on the forehead causing the Scout to topple onto his bed. "Zhey vere supposed to _kill _him! I do not understand vhy he vas still able to stand up and greet me vizh a smile and a stupid sentence… about a horse…"

Scout rubbed his forehead. "Ow… but why is he still alive?"

"I don't know…", murmured the German. He sat next to the former flash of their wacky group. "But he probably won't be alive for long… or maybe…"

"Or maybe what?"

Medic looked at Scout with a killing intent in his eyes. "Changes might happen to him. I cannot know for sure, but I could go to zhe bay and start studying zhe blood sample I took from him vhile he vas unconscious."

"Changes, huh? I gotta tell you doc, I don't think I could tolerate another change that could happen to our group… yah see, this frickin' switch is already too much for me", said Scout. He crossed his arms and pondered… how would that helmet boy change, mentally or physically?

"Vell yeah? Zhe vay you trashed zhe lab vas more zhan too much for me! Now get out of my sight before I vould decide to mutate you!"

Before a quarter of a second passed, a trail of dust replaced the Scout and the Medic was left inside his room, all alone.

He smiled darkly to himself.

* * *

This would be easy.

He has never done this before, but the skills he acquired from his current job made him such an expert at this.

It was dark inside the metal hallways of the building. Of course, it was occupied by only two people within only one room, and electricity would cost much if all the lights in the building were left switched on. There were no body guards anywhere, but there were a whole lot of CCTV cameras covering every corner of the damned place.

Good thing he was wearing an all black suit. That made him invisible to the human eye who could be viewing through mini monitors; but if the cameras could sense infrared radiation… well, he never considered that before.

"_Well, here goes nothing", he thought to himself. _

He ran silently, like a ninja that wasn't there. It seemed like he was familiar with the place, for he turned and ran into the right pathways and never hesitated when he approached forks in the road. Whenever he was faced with a flight of stairs, he would merely fly over them and not feel his muscles tiring out.

He moved as quickly as possible, yet his body didn't seem to complain at all.

The cameras changed their vantage point every once in a while, but the gadgets never paid attention to the sudden wind that would breeze right through them.

"_Almost there… Once I get this over with I could finally get my pay…"_

After passing through 6 floors, he finally made it to the place of legend.

"_This is it."_

The darkness made it impossible for him to locate the tremendous door that was supposed to make the place unreachable for unauthorized personnel, but thanks to his night vision goggles, he managed to easily locate the lock.

He'd open it easily if it were a traditional lock but nooooo….

He needed to deal with an electronic lock system.

"What the hell?" he mouthed silently. "These things were invented already? I didn't sign up for this shit! How the heck could I open a…" Then he remembered. The person who set the password for this lock was that same person who built the decoy base…

"_That dude spelled out the word 'weapons' like a pro…"_

With an IQ like that, he wouldn't have created a password that can't easily be decoded.

"_Looks like it's trial and error time! Hmmm, let's try 1, 1, 1… uh, 1."_

_Teet!_

Woah. Talk about an extremely tough security password made to lock up the most important documents of this facility.

The man smiled, and slowly opened the door. There it was, in front of him, easily seen thanks to the dim light that hung above it… the item that would change the fate of his nation's military… It definitely wasn't the usual briefcase that those stupid teams were fighting for.

It was the real intelligence, the secrets of this facility.

I holds the selfishly hidden secrets of the respawn system.

* * *

Mmm-hmm, guess where i got the idea of an easy password (hint: Spy )

Okay the next chapter is coming up next week or the week after that.

Up next - *surprise surprise* (actually i don't know yet i still have to get my ideas straight :D)


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